


The Art of Housebreaking

by PBJellie



Category: South Park
Genre: Alpha Clyde, Alpha Token, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Craig, Omega Tweek, Omega Verse, Past Rape/Non-con, Social Commentary, Social Issues, Surrogacy, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-03-25 09:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13831536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PBJellie/pseuds/PBJellie
Summary: Tweek and Craig find themselves leaving the Omega home where they've spent the last five years of their life. Tweek is reluctant to leave, while Craig is excited for the prospect of living with Token and Clyde.Lots of things have changed, and sometimes adjusting back into daily life can be difficult.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So like I was supposed to be writing other things, but I wrote this instead. Well, I guess I write ABO now.

“Take the offer or leave it,” Token shrugged, standing against the door to the heat room the facility had lent them. Craig sat cross legged on a stark queen size bed. The linens smelled like bleach. He supposed that was par for the course though. Heats were messy, or at least his were. 

“And you take Tweek?” Craig asked again, staring at the man in question through the small window in the doorway. Token stepped out of the way, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Yeah, we can leave today, unless you’re attached to this place.” 

Craig let out a dry laugh. 

Token wordlessly opened the door, snarling at Tweek as he tried to come to blows for the second time. It’s not like Tweek could ever win in a fight, but it didn’t stop him. He’d be damned before he let a courtship challenge go unrecognized. They’d been through this song and dance with each possible Alpha that showed interested in Craig.

Craig brushed the bite mark on his lover’s neck, fingertips pressing into the swollen gland. It wasn’t a real bond, not according to the staff on site, but Tweek relaxed regardless. He leaned into the touch, hands lacing together as Craig made eye contact, then nodded. 

“I’m going with Token,” Craig whispered. 

“No!” Tweek shouted, glaring at Token who kept walking towards their shared room. It’s not like the staff was enthusiastic about the pair being roommates, but Tweek was not easy to handle. He was prone to violent outbursts, attacking orderlies when separated from his mate. They were mated, it’s what they told people. 

Not like people came to visit. Not in a place like this. 

“You are also going with Token,” Craig added, trying to comfort Tweek in the hallway.

“I’m not and you’re not either. We’re a couple. You and me. We don’t need them,” Tweek snarled. 

“Honey,” Craig said calmly, “don’t you want to live in a real house again? I won’t be in a relationship with Token; I’ll be with you.” Craig tried to ignore how Token bristled at that idea.

“This is our home!” Tweek shrieked, burrowing in the twin bed they shared. The other bed was neatly made, hospital corners that neither one of them had been able to master. Craig wondered if they still bothered to change the sheets. 

“I can see why you’d be proud of it,” Token tried to defuse. Craig knew he meant well, they were once friends, but it came off as patronizing. Here was the almighty Alpha coming to whisk away the aging Omegas from living the rest of their lives in a home. Tweek had similar thoughts, judging by the way he was in Token’s face, standing on his toes as he jutted his chin out in protest. 

“I will fight you, and win, if that’s what you really want,” Token sighed, an open palm pushing Tweek back onto his heels. Craig shrank underneath the Alpha’s glare, unwillingly lowering his eyes to the ground. 

Craig made a note of how expensive Token’s shoes looked, shiny leather hand stitched, probably some European country. Had he seen something like that in the second hand magazines they were allowed? Perhaps, but maybe he’d learned these things before he presented. It had been five years. Five years of living in this place. 

Tweek had been here almost seven. 

“Babe,” Craig cooed, peppering kisses on his face, “let’s just go with Token. It’s a good deal for us.” 

“What’s the deal? We get to become baby factories for Token? I’ll pass,” he snapped, swinging at Token’s face with a balled up fist. Token easily dodged, but Tweek kept pursuit. 

“No, that’s not it. Will you listen without getting so defensive?” Craig pushed, wrapping an arm around his mate. Tweek rested his head in the crook of Craig’s neck, inhaling deeply before nodding. Token shifted on his feet near the doorway, his shoes squeaking against the linoleum. 

“Okay, explain,” Tweek sighed, glancing at Token then flipping him the bird. “He stinks. I don’t like him.” 

“I know,” Craig rubbed his back, draping the blanket over them to serve as a barrier for Token. “Token is in a relationship already.” 

“So he wants a harem? He’s a pervert, so that makes it better? I’m not going to fuck him. I don’t fuck Alphas. I’m not going to do it. Never again, man. I can’t do it,” Tweek ranted. 

“You’re not. Token is not going to touch you,” Craig reassured, ignoring Token’s coughing. 

“I’ll just get the paper work started,” Token said loudly, louder than was necessary in such a small room. 

“I don’t want to go. I’m not, man, you can’t, I’m not going,” Tweek stuttered out, pushing the blanket away as the door shut. 

“Token can take care of us.” 

“Being taken care of comes with a price I won’t pay. Craig, I can’t. I won’t. You don’t understand,” Tweek sobbed, moving to straddle his boyfriend. 

“Shh, nothing bad is going to happen. Token is in a relationship. With Clyde.” 

“Isn’t Clyde-“ 

“An Alpha. He is. And they want children.” 

“So we’re going to? I’m not. I won’t. You’re going to leave me here. You’re going to leave me here all alone because he’s got a knotted dick,” Tweek moaned, clawing desperately at Craig’s back. 

“Token wants a, uh, stable omega,” Craig said as delicately as he could. “And I look like Clyde, so I’ll be,” he stalled, looking for a word that wasn’t mate. They weren’t going to be mates. “Like a surrogate. It’s like a job.” 

“We can’t have jobs,” Tweek grumbled, burying his face further into Craig’s neck. “If we could have jobs, we wouldn’t be here. I mean, I might be here, but not you man. No way, you’d be long gone. Just gone.” 

“I would never leave you,” Tweek shook his head in protest. “Tweek, I love you. This is for us.” 

“I love you, too,” he squeaked out in response. 

“So trust me. Please, just fucking trust me,” Craig pleaded, rocking them both back and forth. “I’m going to surrogate for Clyde and Token. Token has a garage apartment. We can live there, just the two of us.” 

“My body will betray me, Craig. No way, too much, it’s too much. I’ll go into heat and smell an Alpha and it’ll happen all over again. I want to stay. I can’t, I can’t.” 

“It’s taken care of, I promise, it’s taken care of. You’re going to get suppressants. That’s part of the deal. They don’t touch you, you get suppressants, and Token only has relations with me for children,” Craig gulped, lightly biting the bond mark on Tweek’s neck. “Us in the garage apartment, just you and me.” 

The door was thrown open as Tweek sniffled. Craig could see the expensive shoes that Token wore walking across the room, and he could smell the scent of an enraged Alpha. He shrinked into Tweek who stiffened. They broke apart, Tweek using his body to shield Craig. 

“We need to have a discussion,” Token said through clenched teeth. 

“Then discuss,” Tweek snarled as Craig ducked behind Tweek’s shoulder. “Discuss without terrifying my mate, if it would please your highness.”

“Why are you like this? I’m your friend trying to rescue you from this dump. Do you really want to rot away here? They’ll transfer you to a state run Omega nursing home the moment you stop having an estrus, you know that right? Do you think those are nice places?” Token asked, unflinching as Tweek rose to his feet. 

“Do you think it’s nice here? Do you think any part of our lives has been nice? You’re not our friend. If you were our friend you would have visited us. We’re allowed visitors. We were always allowed visitors, but where were you, man? Huh? Where were you? Banging your way through Betas until you decided to have kids?” 

“It’s called college,” Token snapped. “It’s essential to being a productive member of society. Not that you’d know anything about that. No, you chase away all of your possible mates, not that I could ever imagine why any Alpha would want an Omega with such baggage.” 

“I have a mate!” Tweek screamed, pushing Token with both hands. “I have a mate and he’s right there on the bed. His name is Craig and we are mated.”

“And you’re trapping him here. I was offering to take both of you.” 

“Was?” Craig asked, grabbing Tweek in a bear hug from behind. Tweek writhed in his grip before finally submitting. 

“Colorado State law says that I would be responsible for a six-year-old,” he grimaced as he shook his head. “I’m not ecstatic at the idea.”

“What?” Craig questioned, loosening his grip on Tweek who visibly deflated. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he groaned, diving beneath the blankets.

“Great, he didn’t disclose it to you either.” 

“Honey,” Craig, pressed on the hidden lump, “I’m not mad. What is Token saying? Talk with me, okay?” 

“It’s not my fault,” Tweek’s voice was muffled. 

“No, you’re just the one who came to school in heat. Not your fault at all. How could you ever know that something could go wrong?” Token mocked, sitting on the opposite bed. 

“Stop it,” Craig chastised. Token rolled his eyes, crossing his legs as he leaned back. “Sweetie, I’m not angry. You didn’t know you were in heat.”

“Right, if I had known I would have told you. I told you everything. We were best friends,” Tweek sniffled. “We were boyfriends.” 

“We were all friends,” Token added with a huff. 

“Babe, Tweek?” Craig snuck beneath the blankets, wiping tears from Tweek’s cheek. 

“Uh-huh?” Tweek whimpered. 

“Did you have a baby?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Honey?” Craig placed a hand on Tweek’s shoulder, which he shrugged off. 

“Don’t make me talk about it.” 

Craig pressed a chaste kiss on the top of his boyfriend’s head, no, his mate’s head. They were mated, even if he’d kept a secret. Everyone had secrets, right? 

“Still here,” Token droned, his weight shifting on the other bed, causing it to squeak. “We need to renegotiate terms.” 

“If Tweek doesn’t go, I don’t go,” Craig peeked out from under the blankets. 

“You don’t have the legal ability to say that, but sure. You really don’t have legal right to say no to my offer,” Token stood up, pulling the blankets off of the couple. “But I’d rather not have you be a little bitch until we die.” 

“Thank you,” Craig felt the words roll out of his mouth against his will. Craig was not thankful. Tweek, his emotional rock, was crying in bed, for the second time today, which was all Token’s fault. 

“I’m not buying suppressants and taking care of someone else’s child,” Token said coldly. “It’s not good fiscal sense to waste so much money on stopping Tweek’s heats when I’m also going to be responsible for a school aged child. Who, if she is anything like Tweek, will be a nightmare.” 

“I don’t want it,” Tweek said, voice barely audible.

“At least birth control. Birth control isn’t expensive.” 

“I’ll provide birth control, unless Clyde wants biological children. I have no interest in mating with Tweek.” 

“I’ll do it,” Craig jumped up, covering Tweek again. He didn’t like to be upset in the open, not under these harsh lights. “If Clyde wants kids, then it’s me, not Tweek. Okay?” 

“The kid, Tweek’s daughter,” the words made Craig flinch, “lives with you, in the garage apartment,” Token smoothed out his shirt, picking a piece of lint that Craig couldn’t see. “According to the file, Tweek’s parents refused custody recently due to, behavioral issues. I don’t know what that means, but that’s on you two to figure out.” 

“What is her name?” Craig asked cautiously.

“His parents named her Tweek,” Token chased his statement with a bitter laugh. “The father never came forward. Surprise, surprise. Breed with someone without a bond mark and this is what happens.” 

“It wasn’t my fault,” Tweek whispered. “I didn’t know. It was my first heat.” 

“So the three of you live in the garage apartment. You have no business in the main house, unless Clyde or I call for you. We like our privacy, and I’ll gift you the same courtesy. Craig spends his heats with me, starting immediately.” Tweek just pressed his face into a pillow. “Agreeable?” 

“I spend my heats with you in the main house,” Craig sat down again, rubbing Tweek’s back while they talked. They both appreciated physical touch as reassurance. Craig wasn’t angry. Shocked? Yes. Bewildered? Maybe. Sad? Perhaps. He certainly understood the phobia of Alphas and pregnancy Tweek had, now more than ever.

Everyone at school had heard about the incident. An Omega presents a few years earlier than they are supposed to, and is unsure of what is happening. They hide in the bathroom, thinking it’s a stomach bug. Before he knows the bathroom is swarming with Alphas looking for to mate. The janitor doesn’t check that bathroom before locking up for the weekend, and the Omega rides out his heat with multiple partners. They find him the next Monday morning, dehydrated and exhausted, sleeping naked on the tile floor, while the Alphas broke out of the school through a first floor window.

It made Craig sick when he finally pieced together who the Omega was.

“We’ll discuss it with Clyde,” Token waved off. 

“Our house can’t smell like Alpha,” Craig protested, hands on Tweek’s shoulders. “He doesn’t do well with ruts.” 

“It’s a one bedroom and you will have a six-year-old,” Tweek let out a choked growl as Token spoke, “so it’s not like there will be much in the way of privacy in the apartment. I’m sure we will come to an agreement.” 

“Tweek, honey? Is that okay?” Craig asked as Token tapped his fingers impatiently against his dark jeans. 

“I’m not going,” Tweek mumbled.

“That’s mature of you,” Token snarked, leaving the room. “I’ll finish the paperwork. Pack up.” Craig snorted at the idea of packing. What did they even own? 

“I’m not going,” Tweek repeated. 

“Oh, I heard you. You don’t have any choice in the matter.” 

“Are we allowed to take these clothes? Are they even ours?” Craig asked, hoping to ease the tension. Tweek was up, pacing around the room frantically. 

“I’m not going, Craig. I’m not. They can’t make me go,” Tweek said, flip flops slapping the soles of his feet.

“Honey,” Craig sang sweetly, “honey. Just stop pacing.” 

“No!” He raised his voice, not quite at a shout but loud enough to make the conversation uncomfortable. “No! I’m not going.” 

“Tweek,” Craig tried again, while riffling through their shared dresser. He pulled out all of the letters from his mother, those were his and he wanted them. He tossed them into a garbage bag, figuring it was close enough to luggage.

He’d be able to see his mother, if he was mated. Token would probably take him by, that’d be exciting. He came from a family full of Betas that couldn’t afford a heat room, let alone the tuition for the Omega school in town, so it’s not like he could have stayed at home. She visited a few times a year, when money and the car allowed for a to drive to Denver. She’d bake cookies for the occasion, and he always shared them with Tweek.

Tweek was still. He dropped a pile of envelopes onto the bed, the one they didn’t use, and ran his hands through his hair. Maybe ten envelopes in total, but it could have been less. Nothing like Craig’s pile. Craig also had a sneaking suspicion that at least a few of those were from his mother, wishing Tweek a happy birthday. 

“I never opened their letter,” Tweek sifted through the pile, hands shaking. “I couldn’t. I didn’t want to know. They took it away before I could see. I was too young and my parents didn’t want me at home, so it wasn’t even mine. Not really. They could have let me hold it, but they didn’t. Dad wanted to rip the band-aid off. Don’t get attached, Tweek. Enjoy living in a home until you die, Tweek. This is all your fault, Tweek.” 

“Babe,” Craig slowly approached him, arms out in an attempt to give him a hug. He simply shook his head, declining the invitation. His eyes fixed on the letters and once Craig was closer, he realized that there was only one unopened letter, to Tweek from the Tweaks. 

“I can’t open it,” his fingers twitched as he ran them over the folds of the envelop. “I never could.” 

“Hun,” Craig’s voice cracked, “you don’t have to.” The envelop was thrust into Craig’s hands, which were far steadier than Tweek’s. 

“I don’t want it. I don’t. I don’t want any of this.” 

“But it’s what you’ve got,” Token interrupted, throwing a coat onto his shoulders as he entered the room. “We’re leaving. All three of us. We’ve got to pick up your kid from this group home, tonight, apparently. I don’t suppose either of you have a jacket, do you?”

Craig shook his head, eyeing the donated clothes they both wore. They didn’t even have real shoes. And they were lucky to have the shower shoes they did, a gift from his mother for the two of them. Craig scooped up the rest of the letters, and tossed them into the bag he had started. Tweek shrugged, keeping a stiff upper lip as he ripped the garbage bag full of belongings from Craig’s bed. 

“It’s snowing, you’ll catch cold.” 

“And that’d be bad for baby production, right?” Tweek sneered, glaring at the woman at the front desk one last time 

“I’d say what do you know about baby production, but, apparently, you know quite a lot.” 

“Stop it, please stop it. Christ. We used to all be friends,” Craig complained as the double doors were buzzed open. 

“The black car, the one that’s running,” Token said. “Both of you in the back seat. Don’t even think about it, Tweek.” 

“Tweek, come on,” Craig pleaded. "It's cold out."

“Just get in,” Token complained as Tweek dug his heels into a snowbank away from the car. 

“No, I’m not going. You can’t make me go.”

Craig turned to see the staff peering out of the windows, probably waiting for Token to march in and try to return Tweek. He shook as the wind blew, the cold biting down to his bones. 

“Get in the car, it’s cold,” Craig reiterated. “I’m cold.” 

“The door is open. I’ll get him into the car. Don’t worry about it.” 

Against Craig’s better judgement, he slid into the car, melting into the seat. It was so warm and the leather seats were so nice. What kind of job did Token have? How could he afford to support three mates? He was only twenty-one, it’s not like he was geriatric. 

“Fancy car, huh?” A familiar voice called from the front seat. “It’s good to see you again, bro! I missed you loads. I would have gotten you sooner but the government wants an Alpha to have a job and housing before they’re allowed to take a mate from an Omega house. Meanwhile Kenny’s shacked up with Butter’s, even though they’ve barely got two pennies to rub together. 

“Clyde?” 

“Yea- Oh, Holy Shit,” he jumped out of car, leaving Craig to press his face against the glass as the car door locked. Tweek was pounding his fists against Token’s face, kneeing him repetitively in the groin as they rolled in the snow. Clyde pulled him off, nose bloody and lip split, holding him in a choke hold. Clyde dragged Tweek to the back seat, threw him in, and immediately locked the door. 

“I’m not going!” Tweek barked, throwing himself against a tinted glass. 

“Sweetie, I’m right here. Let’s try to calm down.” 

“No! Alpha’s are liars! I won’t calm down!” Tweek screeched, smashing his head against the window. Craig stripped his shirt off, wrapping it around Tweek’s face like a mask. Tweek inhaled a few times, still striking the window, until he eventually petered out, slumping against the seat. “They’re liars, Craig. You don’t understand,” he said, voice hazy.

“Explain to me,” Craig said, wrapping his mate into a hug. 

“They say they’re going to get you help,” Craig looked up as both of the doors opened, “They’re going to help you, find help, but they don’t. They fuck you on the bathroom floor, because that’s what they want. It’s what they do, and now we’re going to go live with two of them. They’re going to hurt us, and everyone will blame us. Just because we’re so tempting. I don’t want to be tempting.”

“That must be awful,” Craig comforted, shaking his head as Token offered him his coat. The smell would set Tweek off, he was certain of it. 

“It is,” he keened, wiping his eyes with the old shirt. “And I’m going to have to remember it every day because of the smells and it is going to live with us. I don’t even know it. It doesn’t know me.” 

“It?” Clyde asked, sounding somewhat confused as he stared at Tweek and Craig. He seemed to be in a bit of a shock to see Craig kissing Tweek’s neck, even though they had frequently kissed pre-puberty. It’s not like this was the first time Clyde had ever seen them kissing. 

“Put this address into the GPS, we’ve got to go get Tweek’s kid,” Token grumbled, starting the car and reversing. Craig had not been in a car for a very long time. Tweek squeezed his forearm as the gears changed again, making the car jolt.

“Tweek’s kid? I thought we were just mating Craig. I mean, if you really want to bang Tweek too, I guess that’s okay, but that wasn’t the original plan,” Craig tried to overlook how he was already mated, especially as Tweek started to stir in his arms. “Do you not like me Token? Am I not enough for you?” 

“Clyde, do you even understand how babies are made?” Token asked, a lilt in his voice.

“We both know I slept through that class, but you filled me in that I would not be having your babies, that an Omega would have to do it, or a girl, right? Did you two already make a baby?” 

“That takes a good deal longer than that. This child is from a,” Token coughed, flipping on a turn signal as Clyde punched numbers into a GPS, “previous relationship.” 

“So Tweek and Craig had a baby, that’s exciting. Are you excited to meet your baby? I wonder if the baby will look like both of you, or one more than the other.” 

Craig had almost forgotten how stupid Clyde was. Almost. 

“Where do you work, Clyde?” Craig asked, trying to steer the conversation away from the surprise child. 

“I manage the shoe store that my father owns. It’s not like, prestigious or nothing, not like Mister CPA over here, but I like it. We got some new shoes the other day and they sparkle, like they’ve got rhinestones all over ‘em. Your sister really wanted a pair so I gave her the employee discount. Gotta be a good friend, ya know?” Clyde took a deep breath, then immediately started talking again.

“Anyway, how was that place? I tried to get your address so I could send you letters and stuff but your Dad wouldn’t give it to me. Something about me being too stupid of a mate for his son, but like, I wasn’t even trying to bone, because I’ve got Token and we were already boning all the time. Since like age sixteen. I just wanted to talk with my pal, but he wasn’t into it. Your dad can be a real grump, but that’s alright. Are you excited about the baby? The GPS says were only like twenty minutes away from where we pick it up from. Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl? Wow, I can’t believe we live so close to the place where they make babies for people. It’s like ten minutes from your house, Token.” 

“It’s our house,” Token corrected. Craig snickered that this was the only part of his rant that Token bothered to correct. Tweek was silent.

“I know, I know, but it’s yours. I know we live in it, but like, it's mostly your money and we’re not married, we’re not allowed to be married, so it’s not like it’s really mine.” 

“It’s really yours, Clyde. Your name is on the paperwork.” 

“Well at least we’re not the only ones not allowed to get married, huh? Oh, look! Token, did you see that they have bond marks? Why don’t you give me a bond mark?” Craig’s hand went to cover his, rubbing it ever so slightly. “I want a bond mark!” 

“We don’t have them because we can’t have the whole town knowing we’re gay, okay?” 

“They have them,” Clyde pouted, crossing his arms as the GPS warned Token of an upcoming turn. 

“And I think it’s stupid, but that’s their decision,” Token rationalized. 

“You have two beards, so you might as well mark each other,” Craig rolled his eyes, shifting Tweek so that he was laying in his lap. Token raised his eyebrows in the review mirror. “Don’t look at me like that. I know I’m a beard. It’s whatever, I don’t care. Me being complicit in hiding your illegal relationship is the least of my worries right now.” 

“It’s not illegal if we have a pack. People are still allowed to have packs, right? It ain’t gay if there’s at least one Omega, right?” Clyde joked, his hand caressing Token’s. 

“It’s not illegal if we have a pack. That is correct,” Token was smiling, just a little. 

“It’s still pretty fucking gay though,” Craig added. Clyde snorted, kicking his feet against the dashboard as he laughed to himself. 

“God, I missed you.” 

“Missed you too, buddy.” 

“Look at you, getting all affectionate,” Clyde teased as the car came to a stop outside of a cement building. “Oh, look, it’s the place where they make babies for people” 

“Clyde,” Token complained, rubbing both hands over his eyes, then he shuffling through some paperwork. “This isn’t our baby. Our baby won’t come from here. Craig is going to have our baby, okay? This is Tweek’s child.” 

“Shouldn’t Tweek go in? It’s his baby,” Clyde interrupted as Token stepped out of the car he left running. 

“Honey,” Craig nudged Tweek with his hand, “do you want to go in with Token?” 

“I don’t want any kids,” Tweek grumbled, adjusting Craig’s shirt around his face. “It stinks like Alpha in the car.” 

“Real mature,” Token huffed, slamming the door. 

“I don’t think I farted, did I? Craig? Do I stink? Sorry if I’m making you feel bad, Tweek. It’s not on purpose. I hope I didn’t hurt you when I pulled you away from Token, but I couldn’t have you hurting my boyfriend, you know.”

“I don’t care,” Tweek mumbled into Craig’s lap, shifting so that he was closer. 

“What do you think your baby will look like?” Clyde asked, staring dreamily into that drab grey building. “I bet that you two would have a baby that looks like Tricia. You know how her hair is dark but her eyes are light? I bet it’s be like that. Aren’t you two excited? I’ve wanted to be a Dad since I was, like, twelve. You two are actually getting to do it, isn’t that exciting?”

“I don’t want any kids,” Tweek repeated. 

“Oh, but you will in a minute. They're so cute. You just like, instantly want them. I looked up lots of recipes for baby food and that sort of stuff. In case you want my help.” 

“I don’t want to have any kids, and I don’t need some stupid Alpha’s help!” Tweek roared, ripping the shirt off of his face and springing upwards. “I can take care of everything just fine. Craig and I were just fine on our own and now we’re having to do this, all because some high and mighty Alphas, who were really just morons, decided that they could change our lives. Fuck you, Clyde.” 

Clyde didn’t say anything back immediately, but he did start crying. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his sweater. He opened his mouth a few times, but he always shut it, like a fish gasping for air. 

“Tweek, honey,” Craig grasped his hand, pulling him next to him. “How about we calm down?” Craig looked up at Clyde, who was still crying. “I don’t think he thinks you're especially stupid, just that all Alphas are stupid. He thinks you’re as dumb as Token.” 

“Oh,” Clyde perked up, wiping his eyes one last time, “that must mean I’m actually really smart.” 

“You’re all fucking stupid,” Tweek grumbled, glaring at Craig, who shrugged. “I don’t want to meet it.” 

“Her, how about we call her, her, okay? That might help. It is for objects.” 

“Sorry, I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been allowed to go to school since I was fourteen,” Tweek frowned, crossing his arms in front of himself. Craig slipped back into the shirt as Clyde smiled at him. 

“This is a really stressful day, isn’t it?” Craig asked, rubbing his hands on Tweek’s back as he stared towards the building. 

“Yeah, it is,” he started to sniffle. “I worked really hard to not have to think about her, man. Really hard. It was supposed to just be me and you, together. That was my happy ending to this whole fucking mess, and now I’m having to deal with it, I mean her, her, and everyone thinks it was my fault.” 

“I don’t think it was your fault,” Craig reassured as Clyde broke open a pack of tissues. He took a few and handed the rest back. Tweek would not touch his hand. 

“Yeah, dude, it wasn’t your fault, whatever it was. Just get it all out,” Clyde said, laying the tissues on the center console. When Clyde turned forward, Tweek snatched them, wiping his face frantically.

“Yeah, go ahead, I’m listening,” Craig whispered into his ear.

“I couldn’t tell you. How could I ever tell you? It’s not like you could do anything. You had no power, all it'd do is make you angry with me,” Craig fought back his desire to correct him, that’s not what he needed. “And it was supposed to be French fry day for dinner, but now we’re not even going to get any. That’s like the highlight of the week, you know?” 

“We can get French fries. We can get French fries from anywhere in town, if you want. Burger King is my favorite, do you like Burger King?” Clyde was bouncing up and down in his seat as he talked. 

Tweek did not respond.

“Well we can always go somewhere else for fries,” Clyde kept talking, despite the lack of interest. “We can talk with Token about it when he gets back with the baby. I’m so excited. Can you believe you’re having a baby?” 

“That’s not how babies happen!” Tweek shouted. “You have to have a uterus to have a baby, and someone with working sperm has to fertilize a fucking estrus, also known as a heat. The baby, called an embryo grows in your uterus for like ten months, then they leave you in a heat room to give birth while some creepy nurse watches. They take the baby away before you can see it, telling you to take a shower and go to bed. That’s how babies are born, not in some building. That’s what you two are so eager to make Craig do, fucking monsters.” 

“Please say the f word in front of your child some more, that’d be lovely,” Token droned, as he opened the back door closest to Tweek. He pressed his legs into Craig, trying to scoot as far away from the small blonde child who climbed into the seat. The door slammed, causing Craig to bite his lip.

“Hi, I’m Tweek,” the girl smiled, waving at the rest of the car. Her blonde hair was pulled back by a headband, and she looked an awful lot like Tweek. Right down to the tooth gap and the way she smiled with her mouth partially opened. 

“That’s funny, that’s his name too!” Clyde laughed, ignoring the glares of the rest of the car. “I’m Clyde. It's very nice to meet you Tweek. Do you spell it with two Es or an E and an A?” 

“Both,” she said, looking a bit confused. 

“His is the exact same, isn’t that a coinkidink? You met Token, right? Yeah, of course, silly Clyde, he walked you to the car. I’m going to see if he’ll take us to get French fries. Do you like French fries?” She nodded, inching closer to Tweek. 

“You,” she patted his leg, “look like the picture. The one grandma and grandpa used to show me.”

“Oh yeah?” Craig responded, after Tweek went as still as a stone. Token started the car, and Craig struggled to get her belted in. 

“Yeah, Grandpa Richard said that Daddy was slutty and got ganged, and then he had me. Are you Daddy?” Craig squeezed his hand as the blood drained from his face. 

“Let’s not say things like that, it’s not very nice, okay?” Craig asked, staring at his mate who was shaking. 

“Why not? That’s the story they told me. Is the story wrong? Did they lie?” She asked, rocking back and forth on her hands. 

“No,” Craig said slowly, “it’s just not a nice story.” 

“Because of me? Do I make the story not nice? Am I in trouble for cutting Annie’s hair while she slept? She was being mean. It wasn’t my fault,” she cried, kicking her feet against Clyde’s seat. He didn’t say anything. 

“No, not because of you,” thought Craig was pretty certain that she was indeed part of what made the story so painful to Tweek. “Also, don’t cut people’s hair. It’s not, uh, it’s not nice. Even if they’re little assholes.” 

“She was an asshole,” she grumbled, still kicking.

“Let’s not say that word either,” Clyde’s eyes were wide, looking at the pouting girl in the backseat. 

“What? Asshole?” She asked, kicking with both feet.

“Yep, that’s the one,” Clyde sighed “Hey Toke?” 

“Mm?” 

“Can we get some French fries?” 

“No, why do we need French fries, we can make food at home. We need to be tightening the purse strings in preparation for a new baby, not spending more money,” Token clicked his tongue as he started the car. 

“I’m hungry,” the girl complained. “Daddy, I’m hungry! Your job is to fed me. That’s your job. Grandpa said you’d do a bad job and that’s why I wasn’t allowed to live with you. You’re a screw-up. I’m hungry.”

“I’m not your Daddy,” Tweek said through gritted teeth. Craig grabbed for his hand, but he pulled it away. 

“Are so! You look like him, in the picture. You have to be. The black one, he said that Daddy was in the car. That means it must be you,” she kicked the seat one last time at the end of her little tirade, then shrieked. 

“Stop it, we don’t scream in the car. It’s not ladylike,” Token chastised. “Tweek, take care of your daughter.” 

“I don’t have a daughter,” Tweek’s jaw was clenched as Craig tried to comfort him. 

“Grandpa said you were a liar and I would grow up to be just like you if I was naughty.” 

“Grandpa is a fucking prick and I hope he gets hit with a car! Grandma too!” Tweek shouted. “They didn’t want me to see you, or talk to you, or even hold you. So if you want to piss and moan about me, get fucked.” 

The girl froze in her seat, hands moving to cover her face. She wasn’t kicking at the seat anymore.

“Tweek, language,” Clyde chastised. “Honey, let’s just pick something up so they can get settled. One less thing to juggle, right? I’ll pay for it.” 

“No fuck you, Clyde.” Tweek hissed, pulling at his hair. 

“Grandpa said you’d try to hurt my feelings,” she cried as she balled her fists, pressing them down into the seat. 

“Yeah, I bet Grandpa also pointed a gun at you and told you that it was practice for home invasions. It’s because he’s a sociopath. Maybe you shouldn’t trust people in authority? Ever thought of that?” 

“Sweetie,” Craig croaked out, mouth feeling dry. “Let’s not say such mean things to our daughter. She’s just a little kid and she doesn’t know about these things.”

“Ours?” Tweek whispered. “How can she be ours, if she isn’t even mine? I don’t want her. I don’t want to do this, Craig.”

“Grandma and Grandpa didn’t want me either, that’s why I lived at that house. People don’t want me,” she whimpered as Tweek half-heartedly pushed the tissues into her lap. 

“Sorry,” Tweek said loud enough for everyone in the car to hear. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that out loud.” 

“Token, come on, let’s just get some fast food,” Clyde complained as Token white knuckled the steering wheel. “They’re having a rough moment. French fries make everything better.” 

“Clyde, we can make something. It’s only like five pm, it’s not that late. I’m sure Tweek will be able to make it until we can cook something. Or she can have, like, an apple, to tide her over,” Token rationalized driving through town. 

“It’s about comfort,” Clyde said. “You get a toy with the meals; it’s not like she has any toys at our house. I get that you’re the one whose book smart, and money smart, and all the other kinds of smart, but they’re hurting. They’re our friends and maybe a burger and a soda would help them hurt a little less.” 

“No one is eating in my car,” Token relented. “I’ll stop and pick something up, but we’re not eating in the car.” 

“Of course not,” Clyde winked, “no one ever eats in your car. Especially not when they take it to work. Never Cheetos, because that would be very naughty.” Tweek smiled, her teeth showing. She started to giggle when Clyde turned around to stick his tongue out at her. 

“It’ll be alright, honey,” Craig whispered, rubbing Tweek’s back. “Do you want to sit by the window? I’ll make small talk with her and you can, uh, I don’t know what you can do. This is pretty bizarre to me.” 

“What did you mean, she was ours?” Tweek wondered aloud as his daughter stopped drummed her hands against window. 

“She’s ours,” Craig reassured. “I’m sure she’s great. This must be really scary for her, too. Maybe we can take her to see my mom if Token or Clyde will come with.” 

“Yeah! I want to see her! Your mom makes the best cookies! They thought I was courting you so they stopped wanting me over, but your mom would bring treats by the store for me, apologizing for their denial,” Clyde snorted. “She didn’t realize I had Token, poor lady.” 

“Who?” 

“My mom, so like, uh, your grandma,” Craig said. 

“I have a grandma already. She drinks red juice while sleeping on the couch,” she shrugged her shoulders.

“That’s nice about your grandma,” Clyde turned to smile at her.

“Sometimes she spills it on the couch and gets mad at me. That I spilled it, but I never did, it was always her. When I said that, she hit me, sometimes. I’m not allowed to live there anymore.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Tweek, the grown man cursed under his breath, slowly inching closer to her. His hand hesitantly brushed hers, and she immediately clutched it. 

“The new house is nice. They gave me juice, and they never lock the door when I go to bed. Did Grandma and Grandpa lock you in the room too?” She chattered as she swung their hands back and forth.

“Uh-huh,” Tweek admitted as the rest of the car listened intently. “So I didn’t escape.” 

“I never wanted to go nowhere. Teacher saw that I had a black eye and I got to live at the new house,” Craig leaned over to get a clear look at her face while she talked. She seemed to be completely serious. 

“What do you want?” Token asked, stopped in front of a bright metal menu. 

“I want the boy toy. The boy toy is always better,” she smiled, still holding Tweek’s hand. 

“Okay, that’s great, but what do you want to eat?” Token asked again. 

“I want the boy toy! I want it!” She complained, swinging her legs. 

“That’s not the question,” Token took a deep breath, then repeated himself. “What do you want to eat?” 

“Hey, Tweek?” Craig asked, sensing the desperation in the car. Both Tweeks looked at him, and he stifled a laugh. “Do you want chicken or a burger?” 

“Burger, the cheese kind,” she said, sneaking into Tweek’s lap, who seemed to be in a daze. “I want the boy toy.” 

“I’ll take a burger, I guess? I don’t know, we haven’t been to a restaurant in ages, just pick for us, okay?” Craig said wrapping an arm around Tweek, who just stared down at the girl sitting on his lap and swinging her feet. 

“Yeah, this must be real weird, huh? Rumor has it that you don’t even see the sun in those kinds of places. Glad you get to live with us, instead. Not that we’re living in the same house or anything, I’m just real excited that you’re back. Both of you, even if Tweek, big Tweek, is weirder than before,” Clyde grinned as he looked into the backseat. 

Token ordered in relative quiet, paid in relative quiet, and picked up the food in relative quiet. It wasn’t until they drove through the big gate of the Black estate that anyone said anything. 

“Annie is gonna pee her pants when I tell her I have a Daddy. Stupid bitch.” 

“Hey, that’s not very nice,” Craig tried to sound serious, but broke out into a fit of laughter. “Don’t call people mean names.” 

“I’ve never had a Daddy before. Even if Daddy doesn’t want me, it counts.” 

Craig glanced over to see Tweek sobbing into her hair, both arms wrapped around her. Token and Clyde quietly exited the car, taking the food with them. Tweek didn’t budge, just cried hysterically. She wriggled in his grip, but then decided to stay as he started to speak.

“I am sorry,” he wailed, “this is all my fault.” 

“Shh,” Craig tried to comfort him, but was cut off quickly. 

“I am so sorry. I would have kept you, I really would have. I wasn’t allowed. It wasn’t fair, they just took you from me.” 

“Because you were a slut, right?” She asked, tilting her head. Tweek cried harder, arms falling away from her. 

“Please don’t say such mean things to your Daddy,” Craig pleaded, wrapping both arms around Tweek.

“Grandpa said. Grandpa said Daddy couldn’t keep me because he was a slut, and maybe, if Daddy was not a slut I could go live with him,” she said as she climbed out of the car through the door Clyde was holding open. 

“It hurts your Daddy’s feelings,” Clyde said, lifting her out of the car. “And it isn’t true,” he said louder, “he isn’t a slut.” 

“Get your hands off of her!” Tweek shouted, climbing out of the car to pull her away from Clyde. “You don’t need to touch her. I don’t get what it is with you Alphas and thinking you can just touch whatever you want, you can’t.” 

“Tweek, calm down,” Craig rationed, shutting the door as exited. “Clyde’s our friend and he was just trying to help.” 

“I don’t need Alpha help. I don’t need any help. He’s trying to trick us, can’t you see it? He’ll be so nice and helpful and then he’ll use us. And we’ll be fucked when they’re done. They don’t care about us, Craig. We are objects to them,” Tweek huffed, setting his daughter on the ground.

“No, that’s not it, buddy. Just trying to help you all calm down. Definitely not trying to trick you. I’m not like this super smart Alpha you think I am. They didn’t even let me into college, oh Token stop making that face, I’m dumb. I know, I’m dumb,” Clyde admitted, running his hand through his hair. “My dick isn’t even that big.” 

“It’s plenty big,” Token protested. 

“I hardly even have an Alpha scent. I wouldn’t make a good leader. I’m not any of the things an Alpha is supposed to be. I’m just here as your friend trying to help you out of a bad situation,” Clyde walked in front of Tweek offering his neck. “Smell, you can hardly smell me, and I’m not on suppressants. I’m just weak. You don’t have to be so scared of me.” 

Tweek inhaled, shakily, then looked as if he was going to throw up. Craig quickly rushed to his side to steady his mate. Craig took a quick sniff and realized that Clyde was telling the truth, his scent was far weaker than Token’s. And Craig was certain that at least some of the scent he was picking up was from Token, and prolonged contact to each other in the car. 

“Keep him under control,” Token warned, leading the group up towards the garage apartment with bags of food in hand.

“He’s understandably freaked, Token,” Craig protested, following the group on a small cobblestone path. This was certainly the house that Token grew up in, but where were his parents? “You’re not supposed to separate Omegas from their young, you know.” 

“Oh, I am well aware, and I can only imagine the hoops the Tweak’s went through to do this,” he said as he shoved a key into a wooden door. “But that is not my problem. I work sixty hours a week and I am only doing this because my partner wants to have a baby. It is the only thing Clyde wants, and who am I to deny him that.” 

“Glad to hear you care about us,” Craig sarcastically replied as he followed into a sparsely decorated apartment. Everything seemed to be made of particle board and transported here in flat pack boxes. The couch seemed comfortable enough though, and the kitchen had a stove and an oven, something they didn’t have access to before. There was even a small TV, one they wouldn’t have to share with a ton of other people. It was cozy, but the living space seemed large enough for the two of them, well three of them. 

“What’s this door go to?” She asked as she yanked on the handle over and over. “It’s locked, why is it locked?” 

“That’s a room we use for storage, you can’t go in there,” Token said very matter-of-factly.

“Token, clean out the Christmas room so she can have a proper bedroom. I asked you to do it like a hundred times, but did you, no,” Clyde complained, sinking down onto the couch where Tweek and Craig were already resting. “We used to live here when his parents lived in the main house. It was a fun bachelor pad.” 

“Hey, do you want to eat?” Craig asked Tweek, the little girl. In honest, the two having the same name was compounding an already tense situation. 

“Yeah, I’m hungry. I hope I got a cool color racecar,” she rambled, digging into a box of food Token gave to her. 

“What do your friends at school call you?” Craig asked as he nibbled on a fry. Even slightly cold they were better than the ones at the home. 

“They call me T. Like Tweek but without the Week. Tweek is a funny name, I never met anyone else named Tweek,” she giggled, stuffing a burger into her face. Ketchup dripped down her chin, dropping onto the carpet in a splatter. 

“Well, is it alright if we all call you T? I mean, would you like that?” Craig stammered, unwrapping his burger. Tweek sat fossilized next to him. 

“Yeah, I like to be called T. It’s a cool nickname, it’s a letter and a name. There aren’t many nicknames like that,” she talked with her mouth full, spitting food all over the carpet. 

“It is. Well T, would you like to sleep on the couch tonight?” Craig asked, swallowing his food first, hoping it would make some kind of subconscious impression on her. It didn’t.

“I have to go home to the house tonight. That’s where I live.” 

“No, you’re going to live here with me and your daddy. Isn’t that fun?” 

“He is my daddy, right? Annie isn’t playing a trick on me is she?” Craig wondered what level that six-year-old’s tricks were on, but pushed the thought away when he saw her bottom lip start to stick out and wobble.

“He is. He’s your daddy,” Clyde jumped in. Tweek didn’t protest, just sat staring forward for a few moments, then, wordlessly, walked out of the room. “You know what? Would you like to have a sleep over with Uncle Clyde? We can eat popcorn and watch movies.” 

“Clyde,” Token warned, “we’re not getting involved. This is not our mess to clean up.” 

“She’s not a mess. She’s a person, Christ. Let them get sort of settled and I’ll watch her until the morning. Tweek didn’t even eat his food. They need to recoup, or something,” Clyde tsked, finishing his burger. Craig smiled at him, relief flooding him when Clyde waved him off into the other room. 

“Tweek?” Craig called as if he were calling for a feral cat. “You laying on the bed?” 

“No,” a hollow sounding reply came from what Craig could only assume was the far side of the room. 

“Did you make a nest?”

“Uh-huh,” Tweek responded, sounding detached. Craig saw that the bed was stripped and that the closet door was wide open. He walked as quickly as he could towards Tweek’s hiding spot. 

“It smells like Token, huh?” Craig asked, scooting past a tennis racket and a vacuum cleaner to settle down next to Tweek on a pile of blankets. 

“It’s gross and I hate it,” Tweek bit back. “I want to go home.” 

“Your daughter is cute, isn’t she?” Craig asked, crossing his fingers that it wouldn’t bite him in the ass. “I’m glad I got to meet her and share that part of your life.” 

“Oh, the part where I was taken advantage of? The part where my parents painted me as a meth addict so they could take the baby? Or the part where she called me a slut? Which part of my life are you glad to share?” He shrieked, hands wrapping through his hair. He tugged a few times, yelping as strands were yanked out. 

“Honey, it’s not like that,” Craig reassured, working to untangle his mate’s hands. “Don’t hurt yourself, it’s okay. Don’t worry. It’s okay.” 

“This is not okay,” Tweek hissed as his hands were withdrawn. “I’ll stop, but don’t pretend this is okay. This is so far from okay. Okay is like, it’s like one thing, and this is something else.” 

“Clyde is going to watch her,” Craig whispered, tucking a blanket around the two of them as he nipped at their bond mark. “Maybe it’ll be better in the morning. We’re with our old friends. It’s good. You liked Token and Clyde.” 

“When we were kids,” Tweek huffed, pressing his body into Craig’s as he wrapped an arm around him. “They weren’t Alphas. They’re just going to mine us for kids. That’s all Alpha’s ever do to us. Don’t you get it?” 

“They’re our friends. They’re not going to do anything bad.”

“They aren’t our friends. Not anymore. We’re meat, man. We’re not even people to them. You’ll see, it’s terrible. It’ll be terrible,” Tweek yawned.

Craig sighed, kissing him, then burying his head in Tweek’s chest. He tried to settle in for some sleep, but Tweek kept tossing and turning. With some resignation, both finally settled into an uneasy sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

“Tweek?” Craig called out as he tossed about in a nest. His foot banged into something, which clattered to the ground. 

“The living room,” Tweek said softly. Where were they? They didn’t have a living room in their shared room. They didn’t have all this crap either, Craig thought as he rose to his feet. He snuck out of the closet, disoriented and rubbing his eyes. 

“Am I dreaming?” Craig wondered aloud, trying to remember the last day’s events. Token came and rescued, is rescued the word or is purchased? Craig wanted to use rescued but something told him it was indeed purchased, that there was a financial transaction that allowed Token to take the two of them. 

“I don’t know,” Tweek said from the doorway. He was staring at a small lump under the covers, with blonde hair pulled away from her face. She slept with her mouth open, chest rising and falling as her arm rested on Clyde, who was drooling. 

“Who does she look like?” Tweek broke the silence. 

“Like you,” Craig said as he wrapped his arms around Tweek. He snuggled into his back, kissing at the bond mark on his neck. 

“Yeah, I know that. Obviously she looks like me, because, you know,” he took a deep breath, struggled to break out of Craig’s grip, then resigned himself. 

“I know what?” Craig asked, still pressing into the bite mark. “Say it.” 

“I don’t want to, man. I don’t fucking want to,” Tweek bit, raising his shoulders in an effort to block Craig from his neck. 

“Just say it. Admit to yourself the reality and accept it,” Craig unwrapped his arms, shrugging as he fell back onto the stripped bed. The plastic mattress protector crinkled as he tried to get comfortable. 

“I can’t,” Tweek whispered. “It’s hard and I can’t. I just wonder who the other,” he took a long pause as Craig rested on his elbows to get a good look at his face, “party was.” 

“You mean the Alpha,” Craig corrected with a sigh. Tweek’s face contorted into a frown as he leaned closer to the girl on the ground.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Tweek insisted. “I was just curious. We knew them, you know? I just wish I knew.” 

“Why, so you could pick a fight with them and get your ass beat? Maybe even die? This isn’t the home anymore, Tweek. There are real consequences to doing shit like starting fistfights with people who are bigger and stronger than you,” Craig huffed, the bed crinkling as he walked back to Tweek. 

“Like I don’t fucking know that. Like she isn’t living proof that there are real consequences, get bent man,” Tweek hissed, still watching her sleep. 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Craig rolled his eyes, joining Tweek to watch her from the doorway. “She is awfully cute though. She looks like you when we were kids.” 

“I thought so too,” Tweek added softly. “She’s so old.” 

“Six isn’t that old,” Craig reassured, patting his shoulder. “She has lots of time to get to know her dad,” and with that Tweek bristled. 

“I’m not, I don’t want to, I’m just not her father, okay?” Tweek grazed Craig’s fingertips, blindly grabbing for his hand. 

“Fine, I’ll drop it. I’ll stop.” 

“Thank you,” he said as he leaned against the doorframe.

“You smell like you’re starting to leak,” Craig whispered to his lover. “Do you want me to help you?” 

“How would you help me?” Tweek asked sultrily, “Would you kiss me?” 

“Uh-huh,” Craig said in a bit of a daze, leaning onto his shoulder. “I’d, uh, God, you smell nice.” 

“Do I?” Tweek asked, turning back for a moment, before leading Craig to the bed. “I’d like if you kissed me,” he pouted. 

Craig leaned in, pinning Tweek to the bed for a slow kiss. Their tongues tangled for a moment, while Craig fumbled with the waistband of Tweek’s sweatpants. He yanked a few times as their teeth clinked together, before Tweek helped by wiggling his hips. 

“Do we need to go to the heat room? I can wake up Clyde, if it’s about to start,” Craig stopped, pulling away to size him up. His pupils weren’t entirely blown, so he figured they were fine, but it was best to be safe. Token would be displeased if he got a fine for disrupting the peace. 

“Don’t say his name. I don’t need anything,” Tweek growled, flipping them, so that Craig was beneath him. This was how these things usually went. Unless Tweek was in full blown heat there was no anal penetration, he didn’t enjoy it. “You need to watch your mouth before I wreck you. It’d be a shame if you were a bad boy, wouldn’t it?” 

“Babe,” Craig called out, his hips rising off of the bed as Tweek pinched his nipples. “I don’t want to do that today. Just us, okay? No games.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Tweek hastily said, pulling off Craig’s pants, then removing his underwear. The air felt cool on Craig’s skin. He bucked his hips against Tweek, hopeful that he’d get some kind of friction. 

“Face to face?” Craig asked, whining as Tweek bent down to suck his dick. “God, Tweek, that feels so good. Ah, that, do that thing with your tongue.” 

“Your heat isn’t starting?” Tweek pulled off with a wet pop as he worked his fingers near his ass. “You’re not hardly wet at all. Am I doing something wrong? Are you not attracted to me anymore? Jesus Christ!” He sat up, separating from Craig. “How could someone like me turn you on? Now that you know? This is what I was afraid of happening. Oh God, nnngh, I can’t do this.” His hands flew to his hair, ripping it furiously. 

“No, stop that. You’re still attractive to me, kid or no kid. I need you to take a breath. Breathe in. Hold it, okay, now breathe out. Keep breathing,” Tweek did his best to mimic his actions, eyes wide as he curled in on himself. Craig sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watched him unravel before him. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t even have sex right anymore. I’m such a screw-up, she was right. I’m a slutty fuck up,” he cursed as he pulled his pants back on. 

“I didn’t say that. I was just trying to help you out with your pre-heat a little bit, but if you’re not interested, that’s fine too. And no, my heat isn’t starting. It must be late, but don’t worry about that,” Craig said in a soft voice, carefully petting Tweek’s hair. “Did you jack off before I woke up?” 

Tweek nodded, struggling to keep breathing. 

“Okay, that’s good. So it doesn’t hurt?” 

He shook his head this time, hands back in his hair. 

“I bet Token brought in our stuff, huh? Do you want to see if we can find our bag?” 

“Yeah, do something. Let’s do something, man,” he keened, leaning in such a way that he could see the living room from the bed. “She called me a slut,” he added softly. 

“And she was wrong. She’s a kid. Kids are fucking stupid. We know this,” Craig thought that everyone knew this, but it didn’t seem to be clicking in Tweek’s mind. 

“I’m her,” he trailed off, following Craig off of the bed. They wandered around the apartment, Tweek right at Craig’s heels. “It’s different. It’s not some rando kid.” 

“She’s pretty random to me,” Craig grumbled, finding a black garbage bag on the table. He routed around in it, not finding their letters or change of clothes, but instead found a spare headband, a stuffed bunny whose grey ears were nearly worn through, and a few girly tops and leggings. 

“She’s not to me,” Tweek bit. “She’s,” he took a deep breath then shouted. “Goddamn it, Craig! I don’t want to fucking talk about her!” 

“What! Why are we yelling? Wait, why am I on the floor?” Clyde asked, shooting up and looking around blindly. The little girl to his left started to cry, small sniffling at first, and then loud wails. 

“Oh honey,” Craig comforted, rushing next to her. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Daddy just made a loud noise, didn’t he?” She nodded her head, forearm covering her eyes. It seemed that Clyde had managed to get her into some pajamas, a too tight, green flannel where the sleeves crawled to her elbows. 

“Not her Daddy,” Tweek huffed, rifling around in a new bag. “Not anyone’s Daddy. Especially not her fucking Daddy.” 

“Not the time,” Craig shot back, holding the girl in his arms. She shook as she cried, burying her face into his chest. 

“I had an accident,” she whispered. It was a child’s whisper, and thus Craig was sure that everyone in the room had heard. 

“Uh, what?” He asked, not understanding what she had said. Like she fell off of her bike? 

“She said she had an accident,” Clyde yawned, stretching upwards as he surveyed the room.

“I heard her. Do you need a band-aid, uh, sweetie?” Craig asked, puzzled by the entire situation. 

“She’d have told me if she was bleeding, I think. Kids are pretty good about telling me stuff,” Clyde said, standing up and taking the blankets with them. 

“I had an accident,” she sniffled. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Right, no one purposely has accidents, that’s why they’re called accidents,” Craig rationalized, wondering why her pajama bottoms stuck to him as she crawled closer. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! She’s saying she pissed her pants,” Tweek groaned, ducking out of a garbage bag with a few articles of clothing. He rolled his eyes as he yanked her out of Craig’s grip. “I’ll give you a bath, I guess.” 

“It was an accident,” she pouted as Tweek held her at arm’s length. Craig watched as he whisked her out of the room, grumbling about hygiene and sanitation. He jumped as Tweek slammed the door

“So you and Tweek had a kid? Proud of you, bro. It’s too bad that it’s a six-year-old and not a baby, but she’s cute, you know? I think she’s got your nose,” Clyde mused as he dragged the bedding to the front door.

“She’s not mine,” Craig said softly. Clyde looked back as he was tossing the soiled laundry outside, mouth agape. 

“No way, dude. I can’t believe Tweek would cheat on you. I know that two people gotta love each other to have a baby, so that must be a real blow to your ego. That’s too bad, dude. I wouldn’t have been so insistent that it be both of you if I knew he broke your heart like that,” Clyde said as he shut the door, careful not to make too much noise. 

“Tweek didn’t cheat, it’s not like that,” Craig explained slowly. “Do you even know how babies are born, Clyde?”

“Mom used to say that it was a stork, but Token said that was a lie. We went by that big building, but Token said that wasn’t it either. He said we’d have to have an Omega, but like, if you have to love each other to have a baby, it had to be you. Because I love you, bro,” Clyde hugged him, towering a good head above Craig, and smelling a little bit like pee. Craig tried to relish in the sweetness of the moment, instead of the bizarre fact that Clyde, at age twenty-one had never learned about the reproductive system.

“That’s not it,” Craig droned. “You have to have sex, Clyde. To have a baby.” 

“So he cheated on you?” 

“No,” Craig sighed, racking his brain for the words to use. “So remember the kid at school who went into heat in the bathroom?” He looked around, careful to make sure that Tweek wasn’t within earshot. This was not a story that Tweek liked to hear about. 

“Yeah, I remember. They had to board up that window,” Craig shook his head and rolled his eyes at the oddity of his memory. 

“Weird way to remember it, you freak, but yeah. The time with the boarded window. Tweek was the kid who went into heat, that’s why he left school,” Craig tried his best to connect the dots. “And he went to live at the home?” 

“The one you both lived at right? Where Token and I went and got you guys? We would have gotten you sooner but they wanted all this paperwork done, man it was so much paperwork. Insane amounts of paperwork, then someone had to come and inspect the house to make sure it was safe, and interview Token to make sure he’d be a good mate. It was crazy. I’m so glad that’s over with,” Clyde smiled, taking a seat at the card table. 

“Right, that’s where he lived. And because,” Craig looked around the room, removing the black bags from the table, “Tweek had unprotected sex-”

“He got AIDS? Oh no, that’s too bad,” Clyde apologized as Craig slid into the other chair, defeated. 

“No, he didn’t get AIDS,” because surely Tweek would have told him if he had AIDS, “he got pregnant.” 

“When ladies get fat? My mom had a friend when we were kids who was pregnant. She was a nice lady,” Clyde drummed his fingers on the table. 

“Pregnancy is where babies come from. And then once babies are done,” he looked upwards, partially for strength from a higher power, partially to remember the words he wanted to use, “once they’re done being in that person’s belly, they go into labor.” 

“So they work? Babies come from work? We should have a bunch of babies because all Token ever does is work,” Clyde complained kicking his feet as Craig banged his head against the table. 

“No, that’s not what labor is, it’s where you push the baby out,” Craig huffed. “Fuck, Clyde, how did you get so fucking stupid?” 

“It’s a gift, I guess,” he smiled. 

“Give me your phone,” Craig demanded, hoping that the technology hadn’t gone too far past what he was used to. They seemed the same in adds, besides shit like fingerprint detection. “I’ll show you labor, and it will make sense.” 

“Yeah, dude, anything so I can understand where our baby is gonna come from,” Clyde hummed as he swiped his fingers over a sleek phone. Craig snatched it away, searching into google “OMEGA LABOR VIDEO” and scrolling through the results to find what he hoped would be an accurate representation. He settled for a video featuring a blonde man, hoping it’s further connect the circuits as to where Tweek’s child had come from. 

“Dude, he looks like he’s in a lot of pain,” Clyde grimaced, listening to this stranger scream. “Is that Tweek? He looks older than Tweek.” 

“No, it’s not fucking Tweek, just watch the damn video, Clyde.” Craig was not watching the video. He did not want to actively think about his agreement to be in that sort of misery. 

“Why is he letting them tape this?” Clyde asked, snatching the phone from Craig’s hands and holding it a few inches shy of his noise.

“He probably didn’t have a choice,” Craig said bitterly over the shrieking. “So the baby comes out like that. You’re watching labor. So when you have sex it fertilizes an egg, and that makes it so that a baby can grow, and that fucking mess can happen.” 

“It’s not fair he didn’t get to pick. I wouldn’t want anyone taping me during this. Is this how Token and I are going to have a baby? I don’t want to do this. And I don’t think Token would want to do it either,” Clyde rambled, eyes wide. 

“Neither of you are going to do it,” Craig gulped. “I am.” 

“No way, that’s a baby head. So the baby was just inside him the whole time? Tweek had a baby inside him? You’re going to have a baby inside of you?” Clyde wondered, starting to look a bit green. “Is that a whole baby? That man is crying. That must really hurt. I bet it really hurt Tweek.” 

“Yeah, it’s a whole baby. And it did hurt Tweek. He doesn’t like to talk about it,” Craig said. 

“What doesn’t Tweek like to talk about?” Tweek asked, hands on his hips, his outfit soaking wet. T stood beside him with pants that ran up her calves and wouldn’t button. 

“Having a baby, and I totally get it. This is fucking gross,” Clyde grimaced, handing the phone to Tweek. 

“What is this?” Tweek asked, examining the phone. He gagged upon further inspection, dropping the phone onto the carpet. “Why would you show me this? Is this some Alpha mind trick? Are you trying to play games with me, Donovan? I’m not in the mood to play games! I will murder you.” 

“Woah, honey, calm down,” Craig said over the video which was still playing. The man was crying now, saying something about how pretty his baby was. He scrambled to pick it up and stop the sound, nearly dropping it a second time. “He didn’t mean anything. I was just explaining to Clyde where babies came from.”

“Yeah, bro. I get it now. You had sex with all those Alphas in the bathroom, and then you pushed a baby through your asshole.”

“How fucking dare you!” Tweek yelled, getting in Clyde’s face. His lip was still broken from the day before, but he didn’t seem to think too much of it. Craig rushed to Tweek’s side, trying to hold him back from starting a fight. 

“What did I do?” Clyde asked, genuinely confused.

“You know what you did, you dirty piece of shit!” Tweek shouted, pushing him with both hands. Clyde stumbled back a little, but was otherwise unaffected. 

“Yeah, piece of shit!” T echoed. 

“That’s not a nice thing to say,” Craig chastised, trying to hold Tweek back. “We shouldn’t call people names, even if they hurt our feelings, right, Daddy?” 

“Don’t fucking call me that!” Tweek pushed Craig this time, causing him to trip backwards. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he accentuated with a few punches. 

“Fucking hell,” Craig cursed, covering his face with his arms. “Cut it out, you’re going to hurt me.” 

“Good,” Tweek spat, slowing down. “Good,” he said again, lowering his fists. “At least someone else could hurt for a little bit.” 

“Dude, you can’t just beat up your partner like that,” Clyde chastised, picking Craig off of the ground. “You could have really hurt him, and he loves you, like so much.” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Craig rolled his eyes, breaking away from Clyde’s hold to chase after Tweek who had stormed out of the room, hands over his eyes. 

“Sometimes, when Grandma said something stupid Grandpa would hit her,” T said, trotting along at Craig’s heels. “What stupid thing did you say that made Daddy hit you?” 

“Look, people shouldn’t hit each other. It’s not nice,” Craig pushed open the door to the bedroom, scanning for Tweek. 

“So Daddy isn’t nice?” T asked, brushing against Craig’s leg. The sun wasn’t even up, he didn’t have the patience for this bullshit. He didn’t have the patience for his life. 

“I didn’t say that, don’t put words into my mouth, kid.” 

“Why would a nice person do a not nice thing?” She asked, following him to the closet where Tweek was hiding. 

“Because they were overwhelmed and haven’t emotionally matured past the age of fourteen,” he said spitefully, loud enough so that Tweek’s hunched form could hear. 

“So Daddy is fourteen? I have the youngest Daddy,” she laughed, crawling through the mess to reach him. “Annie’s Daddy is thirty-seven, which is way old.”

“Maybe some of us would have loved to keep maturing if our bodies wouldn’t have betrayed us,” his voice warbled. He sniffed long and hard. 

“Yeah, well you’re not the only person pissy about their lot in life. There are others, other people, other people who get into deals to secure our freedom, that are also not pleased with the situation,” he glared, even though Tweek couldn’t see him.

“At least you got to make a conscious choice,” Tweek spat, pushing his daughter away. She tumbled, wailing as she hit the ground. 

“That hurt! You’re not supposed to hurt me. Daddy’s aren’t supposed to hurt their babies, teacher said,” she cried, arms out in the dim light to be held. Craig leaned over, plucking her from the wreckage of what was once a shoe rack. 

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” Craig cooed in his monotone voice. “Did you scrape anything? Are you bleeding?” 

“No,” she sniffled, “but it hurts still. I’m not making it up.” 

“No, of course you’re not making it up,” he reassured as she clung to his shirt. “I don’t think that you are lying to me. Can you show me where it hurts? I’ll take care of it while he mopes in the closet. Because that’s apparently what we do now,” Craig added with a sneer, closing the door as he walked her into the living room. 

“My knee, the back of it,” she pointed, kicking him in the process. There was a small red mark, about this size of a quarter. 

“My mommy used to kiss it better. Do you want me to kiss it better?” Craig asked, dropping her, with accompanying airplane sounds, onto the couch. She nodded enthusiastically, still waving her leg around wildly. “Okay, you’re going to have to be super still,” he said. “So still, still enough for a butterfly to land on you.” 

She froze in place, leg at a right angle. Craig ducked under her feet, twisting so that he could kiss the back of her knee. She giggled when he kissed her with a loud smack, legs trembling in the air. Within short order, she started kicking again. 

“Hey, no fair,” he joked, flattening her legs into the couch. Clyde chuckled in the distance, the sounds of pots clattered as she squealed with laughter.

“I go to school,” she said, straightening herself as she sat upright. “I can’t wear this too school,” she complained.

“Yeah, why not?” Craig asked, eyeing her. She seemed alright. Well her arms seemed a little bit constricted in the top, but otherwise she seemed fine. Okay, so the pants being unable to button was also a bad sign. 

“It’s too small. I grew too much,” she smiled, standing up and spinning around. Craig took some comfort that Tweek hadn’t damaged her knee. The last thing he wanted to do was go to the ER for a problem that stemmed from a domestic altercation. Who the hell would have known that the Tweak household had been so violent?

“Do you have other clothes that fit?” He was walking around, looking for the garbage bag full of her possessions. It seemed fitting that the three of them would all have their belongings like that. He found hers, dumped it on the ground, and frowned as he found two more pairs of pants, a pair of leggings, a few other shirts, and some underwear. Didn’t she have school supplies? Didn’t she have a coat? 

“The stretchy pants,” she said, pointing the leggings that had dirt on the leg. “Those.” 

“Okay, what about shirts? Do the others not fit?” She nodded, so he pushed those back into the bag.

“Why don’t you have any clothes that fit?” Clyde asked as something sizzled in the kitchen. Bacon, real bacon. Craig did not remember the last time he had such a luxury.

“Grandma and Grandpa wouldn’t buy me any. Then I got taken somewhere else and they let me have these cool pants,” she pointed at the leggings as she shimmed out of the pants she had on

“And a coat?” Craig wondered, knowing the answer.

“Coats make a man weak, like a trickle of dew turning into a stream,” she recited. Craig felt his head spin, he had heard an awful lot of clumsy metaphors from Richard, but never any against coats. 

“Well how about we go shopping, huh? Maybe we can even take the day off of school. Oh man, days I got to take off of school were my favorite,” Clyde said as he cracked an egg. An actual egg, not the powdered stuff. He had been too freaked to appreciate the food last night, but this, this he was going to savor. 

“I can’t miss school. If I miss school, I’ll get stupid. Oh God, I don’t want to be dumb,” she rocked herself back and forth, pants on a pile next to her. 

“Hey, hey,” Craig reassured, patting her on the back gently. “You’re not going to be stupid. Maybe we can just like, go to Walmart before school starts? Do we still have Walmart?”

“Yeah dude, we still have Walmart. What are you talking about do we still have Walmart?” He snorted. 

“I don’t fucking know,” Craig snapped, handing her the leggings that she left piled up on the ground. “Hey, hey, no don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. Take a deep breath, very good. Now let the breath out. No, don’t do it fast,” he mumbled, pulling her hands away from her hair.

“I’m stupid and if I don’t go to school no one will ever love me,” she keened, curled into a ball. “Daddy pushed me because I am dumb. I don’t want to be dumb.” 

“Hey, honey, honey, come here,” he panicked as his muscles tensed. She didn’t even acknowledge him as he grabbed her shoulders. “Okay, never mind, sit still. Just sit there for a minute.” 

He rushed off to the bedroom, tripping over a vacuum that Tweek had apparently thrown into the walkway. He turned on the lights, hearing Tweek grumble in response. 

“I don’t want to talk,” he complained as the door slid open. “I said, go away.” 

“Your daughter-”

“Fuck you, I don’t have a daughter,” Tweek hissed, covering his face with his hands. “This light is too bright.” 

“Your daughter,” Craig repeated, louder, “is having-”

“I don’t have a fucking kid,” Tweek shouted, dropping his hands and clenching them into fists. He glared at Craig, anger that had usually been reserved for other people. 

“Your fucking kid that you have,” Tweek tried to interrupt but Craig continued speaking, “she’s your kid and I get that it’s shitty and it sucks but you should just fucking accept it, you big baby. Your daughter is on the couch having a panic attack.” 

“So,” he said slowly, looking as if he was about to cry. “So what?” 

“Get the hell up, is so what. Be a decent fucking parent, because she’s apparently never had one,” Craig snapped, yanking Tweek to his feet. He begrudgingly stood, wobbly on his feet, and followed Craig into the living room. 

“I don’t want to be dumb,” she whispered to herself, head buried in her knees. 

“Then don’t be,” Tweek said with a sigh. “It’s that easy, just don’t be dumb.” 

“Tweek, that’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Craig bit. Clyde sang a song to himself, loudly and off key, stirring a skillet and looking away from the current scene. 

“It doesn’t work like that, you must be stupid,” she whimpered, glaring at him with all that she can muster. The situation feels very familiar to Craig, and he was almost glad that Tweek can have an ounce of vitriol thrown back in his face. 

“I’m stupid,” Tweek mocked. “It means a lot coming from the girl crying on the floor without pants.” 

“Jesus titty-fucking Christ,” Craig sighed. 

“I hate you,” she mumbled, unfurling her legs. “I hate you more than Grandpa hates you, and that’s a lot.” 

“Oh yeah, well Grandpa seems to hate you more than me, because at least he kept me until age fourteen. How old are you?” Tweek taunted, leaning in close to her face. 

“I’m six,” she said softly. She took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and hawked spit right at his eyes. Craig would have been impressed if he wasn’t mortified by the whole situation. Tweek stayed unblinking, holding eye contact despite the wad of spit running down the bridge of his nose. 

“Did it feel good to spit on me?” He asked after a few silent moments, legs trembling from having crouched for so long. 

“No,” she admitted, breaking the eye contact. “Why are you so close to me?” 

“Oh, you don’t like this?” He asked, inches away from her nose. “I don’t think Craig likes you being a little shit while trying to get ready, does he? So Craig got me. Do you want Craig to have to get me again?” He was slow with his words, deliberate. 

“She wasn’t a little shit,” Craig said, voice dripping with horror. “She was having a panic attack.” 

“That’s how you handle that behavior in a six-year-old,” he responded, shrugging his shoulders as he stood up. “Look, she’s putting her pants on like you wanted.” 

“This isn’t what I wanted at all,” Craig ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “Literally no one wanted this. God, you need like a parenting book. Or a class, fucking something.” T sat on the ground, shoving her legs into the pink fabric, dusting off the dirt from her knees. 

“You asked me to help, I helped,” he shrugged again, turning to walk out of the room. 

“No, this isn’t fucking healthy, good God,” he elaborated, grabbing onto Tweek’s arm. “Tell her sorry.” 

“Sorry for what?” Tweek snorted. Clyde let out a deflated whistle, banging cutlery around in the kitchen. 

“Sorry for screaming at her,” Craig shouted. “Look at me. You’ve got me doing it.” 

“Sorry for stopping your panic attack,” Tweek rolled his eyes. She flipped him off from the ground, and he returned the favor. 

“What has gotten into you? You were so loving less than twenty-four hours ago,” Craig bitched, shaking his head as he looked back between the two. “Is having a daughter that bad? Is being with the kid you expressed regret about being forced to give up less than twelve hours ago, really that fucking bad?” 

“It is when she hates you! It’d be different if she was a baby, but she’s not. She’s six, she’s lived a whole life without me, with my fucking parents, no less. The worst goddamn people on the planet. Did you know our house already had a heat room? They just didn’t want me back, Craig. They wanted her, but not me. And they ruined her, and they did all of this just to spite me, because they hate me so fucking much. You don’t understand,” Tweek held back a sob, turning away from Craig. 

“Make me then. Make me understand why you are taking out your rage on a first grader.” 

“She’s a kindergartner, actually, she has a September birthday,” Tweek cried, hiding his face in his hands.

“You’re obviously real invested if you remember her birthday,” Clyde mused, placing plates on the table. “Woah, you smell really nice. Why do you smell so nice?” 

“Get away,” Tweek growled, stepping in front of Craig. “I am not going to mate with you. I am not interested.” 

“Oh, so you’re about to go into heat? I’ve never smelled a heat, that’s cool. It smells real nice, but it’s not like I’m gonna jump your bones or anything. We’re bros. Y’all keep forgetting that we’re bros,” Clyde rambled going back into the kitchen for another plate. 

“Sweetie?” Craig asked as T tried to shove her foot into her shoe. 

“Uh-huh?” She responded flippantly, snapping the headband around her neck after she crammed her toes into her shoes. 

“Do you think maybe you’ve been a little bit mean to Daddy?” Craig asked, exhausted. 

“I’m like this to everyone. Daddy isn’t special,” she stuck her tongue out, then raced to the table. “I hate eggs, but I’ll eat the toast.” 

“Great,” Clyde said with a smile. 

“I think you know that Daddy is special,” Craig tried to tease an apology out of her. Anything to make Tweek feel better about the situation. 

“Nope, I hate him as much as he hates me,” she said through a mouthful of toast. “We’re equal, it’s when things are the same. See, I’m not stupid. I’m going to graduate from high school, unlike Daddy.” 

“Or you’ll present as an Omega and it won’t matter if you are stupid or smart. Zero pressure,” he said bitterly, sulking back into the closet. He didn’t even bother to shut the door, let alone slam it. 

“I’m going to be late to school,” she proclaimed, dropping her toast on the plate. “The bus doesn’t know I’m here so I have to be a car rider.” 

“That’s right,” Clyde agreed. “Being a car rider is extra special, isn’t it?” 

“Uh-huh, and that means I’m extra special,” she dusted the crumbs off of her shirt, heading towards the front door. “Are you gonna take me?” She pointed a finger at Craig, who shook his head. Did he have a license? No. Was he allowed to get a license? Also no. Some people didn’t even let Omegas sit in the front seat. Hopefully, Token wouldn’t be like that. 

“I’ll take you. I’d be honored to take such a pretty little lady to school,” Clyde beamed, rapidly eating toast as he talked. “Let me grab my keys, you can follow me, sweetheart.”

“Bye Craig,” she curtsied as she stood in the front doorway. “Bye stupid Daddy who I hate so much, because he’s a dumb slut.” There was a bang from the other room, and then a loud curse, followed by crying. 

“That’s not nice,” Craig said as he tried to enjoy his breakfast. “Don’t call your daddy names, okay?” 

“He’s not nice. You don’t have to be nice to people who aren’t. Those are the rules,” she smiled, waving as Clyde shook his head glumly.

“Token will probably be over in a bit, but I’ll come back after I drop her off. We gotta catch up, you know, have some bro talks. There’s so much to fill you in on,” Craig wished he could say the same. That the last five years of his life hadn’t been bad television and Tweek chasing away suitors like a junkyard dog.

“Yeah, have fun,” he groaned, shoveling food into his mouth. He could have sworn it would taste good, but it tasted the same. Everything was dampened by the stress of the current situation. The door squeaked shut, then the locked clicked, and Craig was left alone with his thoughts. His thoughts, bacon that didn’t taste as good as he remembered, and Tweek’s steady sobbing.


	3. Chapter 3

"We have errands to run," Token shouted as he knocked on the door. He pushed it open before Craig could think of getting up. He sighed, letting his head rest on the table. It creaked when he shifted to stare at Token through one squinted eye. "What is that awful smell? Ugh, did you burn food?" 

"What?" Craig asked, not bothering to sit up. 

"It's not food," Token paused, walking towards the bedroom. He gagged when he opened the door, hands on his knees. "Is that Tweek?" 

"Pre-heat," Craig said lazily. "Bad morning, he wants comfort. I'm sure." 

"Then hurry up and comfort him so we can go to the courthouse. We have to fill out paperwork so that our arrangement is legal," Token rushed, pulling away from the doorway to sit on the couch. "Get on with it." 

"I don't want to," Craig huffed. "I'm tired and I don't want to deal with seven years of baggage." 

"I didn't ask what you wanted," Token snarked, crossing his legs at the ankles. "I told you to go get him ready to go. I took both of you. It's not as if I can get a refund." 

"For fuck's sake, we're not things you buy at the pet store, Token. We're not puppies," Craig snapped, slowly rising to his feet. "We're people." 

"The law begs to differ," Token disagreed. "It's not that you're not great or whatever, but the rules of a society are the rules of a society." 

"You can treat me like a human even if the law doesn't," Craig rolled his eyes, slowly strolling into the bedroom. It was starting to stink, and he could smell something sour. "God, he's throwing a tantrum, again." 

It wasn't the first time that Tweek had thrown a scent related hissy fit during his pre-heat. It was a fairly typical experience for Craig to go in and try to defuse the bomb. In the event that he failed Tweek would be at his neck, swinging and kicking until a staff member pulled them apart. The shifts in hormones did not suit Tweek well, even if you could remove the painful memories of his heats, which, of course, you couldn't. Craig groaned, because instead of removing the memories, they had been given a physical manifestation. A manifestation that said he was a dumb slut, no less.

"Babe," Craig asked cautiously, walking on his tiptoes as he entered the room. "Are you doing okay in here?" 

"Fuck off, Craig. I can hear you through the wall. You're only checking on me because you have to, prick," Tweek hissed, something flying against the wall with a thunk. Craig flinched at the noise, covering his head. 

"What the fuck was that?" Craig asked, not wanting to go any closer to the closet. 

"A shoe. Token is real fucking gay and has at least twenty more pairs in here," Tweek said. Craig sighed, then flinched hearing another noise, this time a bang. 

"Don't call me that, you crybaby," Token shouted, bursting into the room. The door was halfway off of it's hinges, swinging from side to side and dragging the ground. 

"You're a queer, powderpuff," Tweek bit back, apparently not facing the same kind of fear reaction that Craig was. Craig found himself pressed into a corner, cursing as he bit his lip. Token was going to kill them. "I bet, you're the bottom," Tweek taunted.

Craig shook, arms wrapped around himself. Token was stalking towards the closet, chest squared as Tweek continued to talk trash. 

"You're such a weak Alpha, huh? Taking a knot up the ass. I'd figure that'd be so beneath your majesty. I bet you wish you were like us, so Clyde would want you. But you're not. You're just a stuffy wannabe leader who gets pounded in his free time," Tweek screamed. "What would the neighbors think, Token? I bet your parents are so disappointed." 

"Tweek, please stop," Craig whispered, fairly certain that he would go unheard. He couldn't bring himself to move. 

"I can teach you a lesson, if that's what you really want. Sometimes an obstinate animal just needs extra discipline," Token's voice was cold as he slid the closet door all the way open. "Get up." 

"No," Tweek's voice sounded small. Craig could barely make out his figure hidden beneath mounds of blankets. "I don't want to get up." 

"Get. Up." 

His voice was very quiet, but it felt like screaming to Craig. 

"Fuck you," Tweek whispered, the blankets flattening. 

"I will, if you don't cut this nonsense out," Token said coldly.

"That's not part of the deal," Tweek said, sounding as if he didn't believe the previous statement. 

"You don't have a right to make deals," Token shrugged. He waited a few moments, then reached his hand down and snatched him by the collar of his shirt. "Now look at me and apologize." 

Tweek dangled in front of his face, not bothering to kick or punch, but unwilling to look at Token. He trembled ever so slightly as his shirt dug into the skin around his neck. Craig felt like he was going to pee his pants. He wanted to do something, anything, but he was frozen. As if he were a statue about to watch his mate get murdered. 

"I don't want to," Tweek whimpered. "Don't hit me." 

"Is that piss? Disgusting," Token grimaced, carrying Tweek by the collar. Craig stealthily followed, hiding as best he could as Token raced his way through the apartment. 

"Where are you taking me?" Tweek asked, still shaking in his grip. 

"Heat room," Token nonchalantly replied. Craig went wide eyed as he watched Token unlock the door. "Come on, Craig. Might as well come with, it's not like I can leave Tweek alone." 

"He's got you whipped. You smell an ounce of Alpha pheromones and you're doing whatever he says, Craig," Tweek shrieked as Craig stuck to Token's side. They walked quickly through the yard, Tweek swinging in his grip. 

In the moment that Token dug in his slack's pockets for the key to the main house, Tweek ducked his arms into his shirt, letting the soft cotton slip right over his head. He sprinted down the cobblestone path, frantically looking for an exit. Craig made a move to chase him, but was quickly cut off my Token. 

"No, stay with me," Token sighed. "You aren't dressed for this weather, we need to go inside." 

"But Tweek," Craig watched him try to climb a tree, arms struggling to pull him upwards. His feet kicked at the trunk, trying to gain traction with his toes. 

"He'll be fine. He doesn't want to come in for his heat, then so be it," Token coughed, and Tweek looked at them, then shook his head. "He can stay outside and passing Alphas can have their way with him, that seems to be more his speed anyway." 

"Dude," Craig groaned, still inches from Token. "He didn't want to be fucking ganged in the bathroom, okay? Stop pretending that he wanted it to happen." 

"Yeah," Tweek shouted, just hanging from a branch. "I didn't." 

"Well, he's waiting in the front yard, about an hour from his heat, shirtless, easy pickings for anyone willing to hop my fence," Token shrugged. 

"I just started my pre-heat, queermo," Tweek screamed, trying to scamper up the trunk again. 

"You must really like me then," Token snickered, shoving his key in the lock. "I'm not interested, though. Your first kid is defective, why take the risk on a second?"

"She's not defective. She's not," he said, as if he didn't believe it himself. He dropped from the branch, landing on his butt without much sound. Craig tensed next to Token who opened the front door, ushering them in. 

"Would you like to go to the heat room, or would you like to see if a second child would be different? Pick fast, it's cold." 

Before Token was done with his statement, Tweek was sprinting for the front door, wrapping his arms around Craig full force. He bit at Craig's neck, nuzzling into the bond mark afterwards. Token shook his head with a smile, kicking his shoes off on a mat inside the hallway. 

"I didn't want to," Tweek muttered as Token led them through the house. They climbed a staircase with a dark wood banister, panting as they tried to keep pace with Token. 

"I know," Craig responded, holding his hand as they made their way through the labyrinth of hallways. 

"We don't need to speak of it," Token shrugged. "It was," he took a pause, clicking his tongue a few times, "unfortunate. And it was immature of me to try to get a rise out of you. I was upset. My apologies." 

"Upset?" Craig scoffed, pretending he wasn't in awe of the large metal door in front of them 

"Yes. A surprise child was not in my calculations. It muddies my reputation quite a bit to take on a charge who has a child out of wedlock," Token punched numbers into a keypad.

"Sorry about your fucking reputation, Alpha fucker," Tweek snapped, pulling against Craig's hand. "It has just ruined my whole fucking life, but let's all stop and drop everything for the sake of your ego."

"You're angrier than I remember," Token huffed, pushing open the door with both hands. It slid to the left, hiding away in the wall to reveal a cream colored room with hard stone floor, Craig thought it was marble, but thought better than to ask. "The sex toys are new, we haven't used them. I think they're all charged. I told Clyde to charge them." 

"You bought us sex toys?" Craig asked, dumbfounded as he looked in a basket full of colored objects. He tentatively grabbed one, turning it over in his hands. He jumped back when it began to vibrate, letting the toy fall to the floor. Tweek elbowed him, giggling at the gyrating penis on the ground. Or at least Craig assumed it was supposed to be a penis, judging by the shape of the head. It was larger than theirs. Was it an Alpha dick? Was this what he agreed to have shoved in him? 

"The book said that you'd appreciate the gesture. It was mostly Clyde's idea," Token brushed it off, smiling a little as he looked over at them. 

"Is that?" Craig's mouth went dry, looking on the far side of the room where a collection of blankets had been draped over a full sized mattress. And by collection, Craig meant a set, because all of the dark red blankets seemed to be intentionally designed to go together. 

"Yeah, a nest. I ordered it on Amazon and put it together the other night, no big deal." 

"Big deal," Craig said, slack jaw. Tweek had already rocketed to the nest, spreading out onto the mattress, and calling for Craig. 

"Dude!" Clyde called strolling into the room, then pulling Token in for a kiss. "I said to wait for me."

"Totally a bottom," Tweek whispered. Craig shushed him, watching them hug each other. "Ugh, the nest smells like Alpha."

"I would have, Clyde. Tweek is about to start his heat, so we had to make haste," Tweek groaned from the nest, calling out again fro Craig. 

"I know, babe. My snookums wants me around. He likes my sexy dick," Clyde laughed as Token blushed. 

"Clyde, don't do this," Token said, shaking his head as he covered his eyes.

"Why not? We're a pack now. You said we'd be a pack, so it's not like these things matter. I've got skills in my peen, you guys," Clyde boasted, fiddling with his belt. 

"Don't you fucking dare," Tweek shrieked. "No fucking way, Donovan. I don't want to. I don't want to. I don't want to." 

"A pack?" Craig asked, keeping an eye on Clyde's belt, which rapidly being removed. "I thought I was a surrogate."

"Tweek was obviously not interested, so I changed course," Token glared at Tweek who was curled into the bed, sitting on his heels.

"Not interested. I don't want Alpha's in here," Tweek complained. "I don't trust you." 

"Yes, why trust the man who freed you from what was essentially prison? What could ever be trustworthy about that," Token rolled his eyes as Clyde began to pout. 

"I thought you said Craig was going to have our baby," Clyde mused, dropping his jeans as Tweek took in air in shallow pants. "Is Tweek doing it?" 

"Craig," he whined, fisting the sheets as he wriggled in place. "Craig, make them leave." 

"Uh, could you go? You're freaking him out," Craig asked quietly, watching Tweek start to buck his hips. 

"No," Token said, staring at Tweek. "I'm not leaving my own heat room." 

"Craig," he keened, hand sneaking down his pants "Craig, we spend our heats together. Just us."

"Dude? He's masturbating, like right in front of us," Clyde said in amazement, gravitating towards the nest. "He smells really nice," Clyde added. 

And like a switch, Tweek was another person. He crawled on his hands and knees, half lidded, mouth open. Clyde stood at the edge of the nest, pants around his ankles. Tweek fumbled with Clyde's underwear, yanking them down. His penis stood erect and Tweek groaned, licking at the head. 

"It's like porn, holy shit!" Clyde exclaimed, like a deer in the headlights. "I thought he didn't like me, but now, now Tweek is sucking my dick. Relationships are complicated." 

"Oh no," Craig worried, covering his face with his hands. "Clyde, please don't. Oh God, Token. Token, he can't do this. Token!" Clyde panted in the background, hips thrusting as Tweek removed his sweats. 

"Clyde, it hurts," Tweek moaned. 

"Token!" Craig shouted. "Clyde, I fucking swear to God, that's my boyfriend." 

"You said porn was a lie!" Clyde stuttered out. "Oh my God, this feels, ahh, look at his asshole. It's all wet, like the porn." 

"Clyde, I tried to explain it to you," Token reasoned, still standing on the far side of the room. Craig fretted, working the hem of his shirt in his fingers. He watched Clyde's hands starting to grab for Tweek's ass. 

"Token, that's your friend," Craig whined, feeling like he was going to be sick. "Token, Tweek is your friend." 

"He isn't," Token said bluntly. "He punched me in the face." 

"Put it in me," Tweek pulled off of his cock, spit sliding down his chin. "Clyde, I need it. Clyde." 

"No, no, no," Craig looked at Token one more time. 

"He's literally asking for it," Token reasoned, turning towards the door. "Clyde will be happy for a baby, even if it's Tweek's." 

"Clyde, buddy. Tweek would hate you for this. You fuckers! Don't fucking do this!" Craig ripped his pants off, trying to work as a diversion. "I'll fuck you. Fucking, I will do it. Don't fucking touch him. What the hell is wrong with you two?" 

"Does Tweek not want me to do this?" Clyde put both hands in the air, face screwing with confusion as Tweek mewed for Clyde's return. "It sounds like he wants me to do it." 

"I want to do it," Tweek whimpered, spreading himself on the bed. 

"I'll do it, honey," Craig reassured. 

"Why aren't you in heat? The books said that if you have more than one, they sync up."

"Am I supposed to fuck him or not?" Clyde asked, shaking his head as he stared at Tweek. 

"No-"

"Do what you want, I'm going to get ready for work, since we can't go legalize our relationship. Someone has to pick up Tweek from school," Token sighed, sliding the door shut.

"Tweek is right here, right?" Clyde asked, talking loudly over the sound of Tweek begging. 

"Shh, shh," Craig cooed, crawling into the nest, pulling his shirt off. It was strange to be naked in front of his childhood friend, but he tried to shake it off as Tweek whimpered with his hips in the air.

"Craig, it hurts," he groaned. "Clyde smells good. Clyde? Clyde?" 

"Clyde?" Craig called, climbing on top of Tweek who shook beneath him.

"Oh God? Are you going to screw? In front of me? Like a porn? I really like porn. Do I get to jack off?" Clyde asked as Craig pumped his dick a few times. 

"Yeah, sure dude, whatever," Craig muttered, sliding into Tweek.

"Clyde? Clyde? Please?" Tweek cried, spreading his knees and pressing into the mattress.

"No, babe," Craig corrected, groaning as he thrust his hips. He hated topping. He felt dumb while topping. Tweek panted beneath him, rutting upwards in an attempt to get some relief. "You don't want Clyde." 

"I want Clyde," Tweek repeated, looking up at Clyde through his eyelashes. Clyde was in front of them, touching himself as he watched Craig rise and fall into Tweek. "Clyde, please?" 

"Dude, I should do what he wants. I want to do it. He's totally, ah, he's totally hot," Clyde moaned, shrugging off his shirt. He dropped his dick long enough to climb into the bed, pressing into Tweek's side. Tweek immediately bucked Craig off of him, opting instead to wrap his arms around Clyde's neck.

"Mount me," Tweek mewed. 

"No, don't. He's going to be mad. Clyde, don't you fucking dare!" Craig screamed, pressed against the wall of the nest. He tried to climb atop Clyde, to stop him from continuing, but his tugs were feeble. Craig wasn't strong like Clyde was, and goddamn it, this was not going very well. 

"He seems really happy," Clyde said, laying flat on his back, dick pointed upward. "He's literally trying to climb onto my dick. I didn't realize how much bigger my dick was than yours. It's like three inches longer. Token's is bigger, but it's the motion of the ocean not the size of the boat, right?" 

"Ready?" Tweek asked, looking around dazed for a moment as he situated himself above Clyde. 

"Token said I could so it's not, hnn," he gasped as Tweek plunged downward, slapping his ass against Clyde's thighs. "Oh God." 

"I can't watch this," Craig grimaced, trying to sneak away. He crawled around the couple, Tweek screaming at the top of his lungs as Clyde gripped his hips, slamming him down. After a few minutes of resigned horror, Tweek came onto Clyde's stomach, while Clyde knotted him. Craig bolted for the door when he heard soft snoring coming from Clyde and little wheezes coming from Tweek. 

"Token?" Craig asked, throwing his shirt on as he descended the stairs. His pants were still in hand, crumpled in a heap in the nook of his arm. 

"I don't know why you think that nudity is acceptable in my home, Craig," Token huffed, snapping a briefcase shut. 

"I don't think that," Craig said. 

"Your dick is hanging out. Put it away, I'm not interested." 

"Clyde is fucking Tweek," Craig said. "Tweek is going to be upset." 

"Tweek is a big boy, he'll be able to handle the consequences of his actions. We'll get him a morning after pill if Clyde wants it," Token said, keys in hand. 

"Don't go," Craig said as his hand touched the knob. He looked back expectantly, and Craig broke. "Don't go," he sniffled. "My mate is fucking your mate, and I learned he has a kid, and I'm here instead of my room, and just don't go. I don't want to be by myself." 

"Oh, Craig," Token said, arms hanging stiffly at his sides. "It'll be okay. You don't have to cry. It's a waste of your energy." 

"Don't go," Craig repeated with snot dripping down his face. "Don't." 

"Uh, how about you put your pants on, and we can go to the courthouse, then we'll pick up Tweek from school? We can stop and get you all some clothes too, nothing extravagant, just something to wear so you're not in nasty pants like that."

Craig nodded, stepping into his sweats as he steadied himself on Token's arm. Token smiled softly, hand reaching up to pat him on the back, then returning to his side without any contact.

"I missed you," Craig sniffed, wiping his nose with his arm. 

"Missed you too, dude. Both of you. We both missed both of you," Token clarified. "Well, you go sit in the car, and I'll grab your flip flops. I don't think the court would appreciate you being barefoot." 

"Okay," Craig said, wiping his face again. "Okay, Token." He shivered in the cold air as Token opened the front door, holding it open with his shoulder. He pointed at the black car from the porch, unlocking it with a key fob. Craig walked as quickly as he could barefoot, trying to avoid the spots of snow that had fallen into the path. He stopped outside the front seat, wondering if he was allowed to climb in, or if he was supposed to sit directly behind Token, or maybe on a diagonal. 

He stood outside the car for a few moments, fingertips grazing the handle, then pulling away. Would Token be angry if he picked wrong? Would Token be so upset that he'd call of the whole arrangement, deciding instead to pawn of the two of them on the secondary market? They'd heard about the things that happened to Omegas whose Alphas cast them out. They worked in sex work, generally. Sometimes they did other things as well, washed dishes, worked in sweatshops, worked as maids. Craig remembered the reports on the grainy television in the group room. Is an Omega working at your favorite restaurant? More at nine. 

"Craig, I told you to get into the car," Token said, staring at Craig with his sandals in hand. "You're standing in the snow, did you even notice?" 

"I just," he hadn't noticed the snow, not until Token mentioned it. It had started to melt, creeping up his pant legs and soaking into the fabric. "Where do I sit?" 

"Oh, Hell, the book said you'd be bad at making decisions, but I didn't realize the scope," Token sighed, climbing into the car. "Get in the front seat." 

"So I'm allowed to sit in the front?" Craig asked for clarification.

"Did you think I was going to make you sit in the backseat alone?" 

"Sort of," he said as he opened the door, taking his seat. The engine was started as Token fiddled with a few buttons by the steering wheel. 

"Think a little better of me, will you?" Token snorted, throwing the car into reverse. "Put your seatbelt on, I've got the seat warmer and heater on, hopefully your pants dry out by the time we get there." 

"Where are we going?" Craig asked as Token pressed a large button on his visor to open the gate. 

"Courthouse, so we can legalize this. Then to the store to buy you some clothing. I'd love to get clothing first, but I don't like the implications of taking an unmated Omega into public. But if I take you to the courthouse like that, I look like an asshole. I'd rather be an asshole than put you in danger, I suppose," Token mused as snow capped trees whirled by the window. Craig kept his eyes glued to the scenery, trying not to take an active part in this conversation. "The book didn't mention this problem. It just assumed you'd have decent clothing, which is obviously not the case." 

"Do you want to pick the station?" Token asked, causing Craig to turn and look at him. He was smiling slightly, driving like it was easy. Was driving a car easy? He'd read a report back in sophomore year that said that Omegas didn't have the brain capacity to handle all of the rules and regulations of the road. He'd thought he could do it, he had driven his father's truck around a few parking lots and it didn't seem that hard. He didn't feel stupider for being an Omega, but maybe he was an outlier.

"I said, do you want to pick the station?" 

"Lost in thought," Craig apologized, fighting his urge to flip him off. That was bad Omega behavior. And after the stunts Tweek had pulled over the last day, Craig didn't want to add any fuel to the fire. 

"Pick the station," Token huffed. "The book said giving you choices that are inconsequential will keep you happy." 

"I don't remember the stations," Craig rolled his eyes, turning back to the window. "Just pick whatever you like." 

"I like NPR and I'm sure you'd be confused by current events. The book said not to drop anything to weighty on you, especially not at the start of reentering society," Token said. 

"What fucking book do you keep talking about?" Craig spat out before he could think the words through. Fuck was probably not a great word to use with Token. His tone was probably not a good tone to use with Token, either.

"Integrating A Homed Omega, it's written by a doctor. He said you might be a little bit hostile upon reentry, and it seems the book has been correct so far," Token pulled into a parking lot, a brick building in front of them. 

"How about you just treat me the same?" Craig asked. "Like when we were fifteen?" 

"We're not fifteen, Craig. It's silly to think we could go back to that. You're fundamentally different, presenting alters your brain chemistry," Token expanded. "You have become more docile, I can tell Craig. Don't blush, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It what makes you a suitable mate. I'm sure Tweek would have softened, as well, if the incidents hadn't unfolded the way they did. Biology wants to make you as desirable as possible." 

"I don't think that's true," Craig said. "I feel the same." 

"How about we trust the professionals on this one?" Token cut the engine to the car. Craig felt a shiver set in, and he wasn't sure if it was because he was cold from the sudden absence of the heater, or because of Token's statements.

"Just treat me normal? Clyde treats me normal," Craig was exasperated. 

"If you allow me to be frank, Clyde is defective as an Alpha. He's not a leader. He's not particularly intelligent. Christ, he couldn't even get into college. He has no social grace. He'd be hopeless alone, and I think after an evening together, even you would be able to pick up on the areas in which he was lacking," Token said, eyes cast down to the speedometer. 

"I can see why you love him so much," Craig snarked. "He's obviously such a catch." 

"He's caring and he's sweet. He cooks dinner every night, which I really appreciate. But we both saw how he hesitated in breeding Tweek. His instincts are lacking," Token sighed.

"Maybe it was because Tweek screamed at him to go away," Craig rubbed his hands together, trying to keep warm. Token removed his coat, a grey peacoat with a wool liner, and tossed it onto Craig's lap. Quickly Craig stuck his arms through, the sleeves covering his fingers. 

"It's a lack of instinct, he was aroused by the smell but pulled back anyway," Token huffed, swinging his legs around the side of the seat as he opened the door. 

"You didn't try to do anything," Craig argued. 

"Because the smell is repulsive," he hissed. "Because I'm not interested, by some screw up in biology." 

"Being gay isn't a screw up," Craig reassured, nearly falling out of the car. 

"Don't speak of my sexuality in public. It'd be a scandal if anyone found out, I'm sure," Token whispered, grabbing Craig by the arm and pulling him inside. "Pretend we're a couple and we can get this done, okay?" 

"No wonder you're so miserable," Craig said under his breath. Token stopped walking, tightening his grip on Craig's arm. 

"Stop talking, now," he ordered. "This is not up for discussion, and even if it was, this is not the place."

Craig stared at his feet in his flip flops, toes feeling numb. Token dragged him along, plastering a smile on his face as he opened the glass door. A woman at a desk grinned. 

"Hello there. Take a ticket and we'll be with you shortly," she said sweetly.

Token did as instructed, looking at it for a moment, then shoving it into his pants pocket. Craig was underdressed for the occasion, with everyone else, the two men in the waiting area and the staff, being in business wear. He glanced down at his sweats, adjusting them so that the legs didn't drag. 

They sat in a tense silence, Token occasionally checking his phone, snickering to himself, then shoving it back to it's hiding spot. He repeated that seven times, until the woman called a number. Craig rose to his feet, looking around the room to see another man, older than them, a beard covering his face, laughing at him as he walked to the desk. 

"That's not our number, sit down," Token said, glancing at his phone again. 

"How was I supposed to know? You didn't tell me," Craig sighed, sinking back down into his seat. 

"It wasn't information that you needed to know. The book said to not overwhelm you with excess information," Token rationalized, finger scrolling through something. Craig leaned over, trying to get a peek, but Token angled the phone away from him. "This isn't information that you need to know, either." 

"I just want to see what's so funny. What am I supposed to do? Just sit here silently?" 

"That is the idea," Token droned, still scrolling. 

"Ugh, fine," Craig crossed his arms, leaning back into the uncomfortable chair. "I'm bored." 

"You'll figure it out, I'm certain," Token mumbled, still staring at his phone. 

"That seems like it's a nice phone," Craig said, after a few minutes of staring at him. 

"I have a nice job," Token replied, his shoulders sinking as he exhaled. "I didn't assume you'd need a hundred percent of my attention for the entire day." 

"I mean, we haven't talked in forever, that's all," Craig said softly. "I thought you'd be like, I don't know, excited to have me back?" 

"It's not that I am not enthused with the idea, but I'm not about to tarnish my reputation as a respectable Alpha by making small talk with you in public. There is a time and a place for everything, and this is neither," he bit, voice hushed. 

After a few tense moments of silence. Token stood up, stowing his phone in his front pocket. He looked at Craig expectantly, drumming his fingers on his thigh as Craig sat. He huffed, nostrils flaring as he stared. 

"What?" Craig snapped. 

"I forgot the briefcase in the car," Token said, still tapping his fingers. 

"Okay?" Craig asked, drawing out the word. 

"So you need to get up and come with me to get it. You're not allowed to be here alone. How do you not understand these things? If I get up, you get up." 

Craig rolled his eyes, shoving his hands deep into the coat pocket and flipping the bird. They walked back into the cold, single file, and Token grabbed the briefcase. Wordlessly, they returned to their seats to wait for their number. Not that Craig knew the number, Craig was just waiting. 

"Number nine," and Token stood up, casting a quick glance at Craig, who followed suit. Token grabbed him by the arm, like one would a child, and led him to the desk. "What can I help you with?" 

"Here to finalize a mate," he smiled. Craig bit his lip, trying to keep his eyes focused somewhere. He had no desire to embarrass Token. Well he did, but he had no desire to see if the rumors about the places he could go were true. 

"Name and ID?" She asked, lipstick stuck to her teeth. Craig opened his mouth to say something, but Token's hand became a vice grip. "Go ahead and take a seat, this process takes a few minutes." 

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, letting go long enough for them to get situated. His hand was back on Craig the moment his bottom brushed the chair. "Name is Token Black and my ID," he trailed off, patting his pockets. "Coat pocket." 

They sat in silence for a few moments, the smile falling off of the woman's face. Craig didn't understand why Token was pulling on his arm. What did he want? They weren't supposed to be talking, he made that clear. 

"Craig," he hissed, "my wallet is in my coat pocket." Craig simply took off the coat tugging out of Token's grip, then placed it in a wad on Token's lap. "Seriously?" 

"Omegas, right?" The woman laughed. "When did simple tasks get so hard?" 

"He's new, less than twenty four hours out of the home," Token's smile looked painful, his eyes half closed. "It can be a tough adjustment." 

"Oh, I'm sure," the woman cooed, taking his ID. She wedged it in her keyboard as she typed something. Craig couldn't see, the monitor was pushed away from him, and he thought that maybe it was intentional. "His name?" 

"Craig Tucker," Craig said. 

"Is that indeed his name?" The woman asked Token. Craig snorted. In what reality would presenting keep him from remembering his name?

"Yes, ma'am. Again, he's new and doesn't realize the rules of society," Token jabbed, hand back on Craig's arm. 

"Hopefully, you can be an adequate teacher. I know they can be resistant to learning. Do you have his paperwork from the home?" Craig shrank in his seat as Token dug around for the forms. The woman never looked at him, instead she alternated between smiling at Token and glancing at her computer. 

"I do hope so," he said sliding a bundle of papers into her hands. She flipped through them, pausing on a very unflattering photo of Craig from when he was sixteen. Craig wished she had angled that away from him, as she did with the monitor. 

"He looks quite a bit different. He aged well, you're very lucky," she stated, typing again. 

"Thanks?" Craig mumbled, unsure of how he was supposed to react. The hand around his shoulder tightened, fingertips digging into his skin. He turned slightly to see Token's face, only to be met with a sneer. 

"I will be if he can learn when to talk," Token said, sending Craig the side eye. Craig sighed, noting the laugh from the clerk. 

"Less is more, sweetheart," she was somehow at his level and looking down at him. He shrank a little bit more in the seat. "Seen but not heard." He nodded as he curled his hands into fists, letting his fingernails dig into his palms. "So you paid the fees at the home, and this is your receipt. And you've had a home inspection, good, good. Alright, just let me finalize it, and done. Seems like you're all set, Mr. Black." She slid a paper across the desk, then immediately went back to her work. "Take him to the DMV to get an ID when you get a chance. Congratulations, sir." 

"Thank you very much," Token said, bowing his head slightly. "And ma'am," she nodded, looking up from her computer, "if I was to wish to form a pack, all parties would need to be present for that?" 

"All Alphas and Betas would need to be on the premises," she nodded, "that's correct."

The hand pressing into his shoulder told Craig not to mention anything about the missing party.


	4. Chapter 4

"Please don't embarrass me, again," Token groaned, yanking two carts apart.

"I didn't mean to," Craig sulked, dragging his feet as Token took his hand, wrapping it around the handle. Now tethered to the basket, he walked briskly, shoulder to shoulder with Token.

"Right, because there's no way you, Craig, would be intentionally disruptive. Like that wasn't your M.O. for ages," Token huffed as the doors slid open with a ding. Craig stalled, taking in the bring fluorescent lights and squeaky wheels. The cart moved forward, pulling Craig into the store.

"Welcome to Walmart," an elderly man greeted looking only at Token, who immediately dropped the scowl from his face.

"Thanks," Craig murmured. Token dug his elbow into his ribs, making him sputter. They kept walking as he hunched over, a stinging pain shooting through his side.

"Keep moving," Token said icily, "don't make a scene."

"That hurt," Craig complained, looking past the bored expression on Token's face, and at a pyramid of canned vegetables. He had forgotten that was a real thing, hazily thinking it was a decoration reserved only for sitcoms.

"Why do you think I did it?" Token asked with a straight face.

"Because you're a sadist," Craig whispered.

"Because your smart mouth makes me look bad," Token hissed coming to an abrupt stop. Craig yelped as his shins rammed into the metal bar.

"I didn't do anything."

"You did," Token insisted. "Work hard and think about it, if you're capable."

"If I'm capable, fuck you, man!" Craig shouted. A woman with a toddler turned and stared, eyeing his bite mark.

"You know, he really ought to have an identifier. It's the law," she smiled, eyes narrowed as she looked solely at Token.

"What?" Craig asked. An identifier? What did that even mean?

"He is old enough to know better," she glared.

"He's from a home, state run."

"Aren't you a martyr?" She softened. Craig curled his toes to avoid her pitying look. "They didn't even give the poor dear shoes, and he's so mouthy. They don't teach them much in those places, do they?"

"No ma'am, they don't."

"Don't worry, it'll get better, I'm sure. I'll pray for you," she added as she disappeared down an isle of paper products.

"She'll pray for you?" Craig scoffed, arm banging into the cart as Token sharply turned towards the shoe department.

"Craig," Token took a deep breath, "do you understand what you did?"

"I talked and everyone freaked out, including you," Craig said, ripping his hand away from the cart.

"So shut up," Token said, fingers running over a wall of shoes. "Don't touch anything. You're not allowed to touch anything. Did they not teach you anything? Honestly."

"Tweek and I mostly, uh," he stalled, watching Token glance at his feet then at a wall of shoes. "They told us not to go, that'd it'd be a waste, so we didn't. I only had like two Alphas come in, besides you, and Tweek attacked them. I was younger, it had been a long time. No one ever came for Tweek."

"Craig," Token sighed, throwing a pair of slip-ons into the basket, "there are rules."

"Like, I'm not allowed to talk? That's stupid," Craig crossed his arms, gripping his sides as Token pushed the cart forward. Craig did not move.

"And you have to have identification markers, and you have to stay with me, so keep up," Token grabbed his hand, prying it away. He stuck it back on the cart, shaking his head while he moved forward. "Why didn't they bother to teach you? Two suitors seems awfully low. You are attractive enough."

“One guy complained that my heats were irregular. He didn’t say much before Tweek tried to strangle him," he said flippantly as the cart stopped again. Token’s jaw was clinched as Craig turned to see why he had stopped so suddenly. His knuckles went white as he squeezed the handle, glaring at Craig. He slowly released his hands, inhaling deeply with his eyes fixed on Craig’s face.

"And you didn't think to fucking tell me this when we met?" Token shouted, pressing into his temples. "Hey, I'd like you to carry my children. Oh, that's nice and all but I'm infertile."

"I'm not, no one ever said I was, Token," Craig started to turn red and tried to push the cart forward. "I'm not, I can still. There's nothing wrong with me."

"Oh, this is rich," Token snorted, snatching the cart away from Craig. "You're in denial, and my other option for children is Tweek. Are you serious? What am I supposed to do, Craig?"

"Not be mad at me."

"I went and sought out you two, specifically. I spent ages on the phone with inept government workers looking for Craig Tucker and Tweek Tweak, and you couldn't even bother to be honest with me?" Token steered Craig out of the store by the shoulder, leaving the cart in the middle of an isle.

"I just didn't think about it," Craig said softly, biting his lip. "I'm sorry."

"I'm so glad you're sorry. It means so much after the fact. God, what the hell am I supposed to do?" Craig shivered as the doors flew open, his shoulder still being squeezed by Token. His flip flops dragged the ground, getting snow stuck in the sandal. He thought better than to complain about the cold, even if he was in a flimsy tee shirt and sweatpants. "Do you want me to go back and get a new mate? Do you have any idea how expensive procuring an Omega can get?”

"No, I'm sorry," he repeated as the car doors unlocked. He climbed into the back seat, the furthest from Token he get, and rested his head against his knees.

"You've had heats before?" Token asked, starting the car.

"Uh-huh, like six," Craig responded, not looking up. His checks prickled with heat as he worked his bottom lip.

"And they were normal? Besides how sparse they were? You lubricated and went through the regular estrus?"

"I don't know," he whispered. "Ask Tweek after, oh God, he's fucking Clyde. I'm not, I'm going to be sick."

"Don't you dare. Don't you fucking dare, Craig!" Token screamed, pulling the car off of the road into a gas station parking lot. He rushed to the back seat and flung open the door, releasing the belt and dragging Craig out of the car.

"I don't feel good," Craig moaned. Token rubbed his back as he felt spit start to collect in his mouth.

"Of course not," he huffed, resting Craig on the ground.

"Are you mad at me?" Craig asked, resting his head in both hands. "I don't get why I'm not allowed to do anything. I'm-" and vomit splashed against the cement, pooling near Token's expensive shoes.

"A little," Token said, hands working their way through Craig's short hair. “Not being fertile isn't your fault. It's an inconvenience, but it's not your fault. Omitting the truth is the issue." Craig gagged again, wrinkling his nose at the smell. 

“I didn’t-” he stopped to gag again, vomit dripping down his chin. He brought the collar of his shirt to his mouth, wiping the vomit away as he shivered. Tweek was with Clyde, alone. They were mating. Mating in an effort to have a child, or at least it seemed that way, since Craig wouldn’t be able. He gagged again, letting the shirt lay flat against his chest.

His stomach was empty.

“Take your shirt off,” Token said softly, tugging at the hem. 

“It’s cold,” Craig mumbled, allowing the shirt to brush by his face. Token slipped it over his hand like a mitten, then wiped it across Craig’s face. He trembled in the cold air, trying to decide if his stomach was done emptying. 

“Get in the car,” Token ordered, breaking away to hold open the passenger side door. Craig struggled to his feet, grimacing at the puddle of liquid. Carefully, he tiptoed around it. As he latched onto the handle near the door, he fought to pull himself up, knees weak. “Oh for goodness’ sake.”

And Token’s hands were on his behind, propelling him into the car with a sharp shove. Craig was too exhausted to complain. He simply nodded as Token slammed the door shut and wrapped his arms around himself in an effort to conserve heat. So he was infertile, he pondered. Was Token telling the truth? Would Token lie to him? He figured that Token, his friend, wouldn’t, but was he even the same person? 

“I’ll call a fertility specialist,” Token said as he drove down the road. “Hopefully, it’s an easy fix.” 

“Am I really?” He asked, swiping his tongue across the roof of his mouth and dislodging a bit of partially digested egg. 

“I’m not a doctor,” Token huffed, as Craig rubbed his eyes. “I’ll speak with the specialist.” 

“Is it not normal? Am I not normal?” 

“It doesn’t make sense to make you worry about it,” Token rationalized.

“I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t trying to trick you,” Craig whispered, pressing his face against the window. They car turned into a parking lot, Token clicking his tongue as he killed the engine. “Why are we stopped?” 

“Don’t ask so many questions.” 

Craig worked his bottom lip as he thought about the lack of information. Was he being sold? He didn’t think Token would ever do such a thing, but he didn’t think Token would ever be so upset about what he thought was trivial information. According to the books Token read, he apparently wasn’t even capable of thought. How can you prove your capable of thinking? Would you know if you weren’t? 

“Put it on,” Token threw his coat onto Craig’s lap, shivering against the car door in a tidy button up. Craig looked at the glossy buttons, fake pearl, or maybe real, as he shoved his arms into the sleeves. As Craig stretched to leave the car, Token made quick work of the oversize coat buttons, all the way to his neck. The wool scratched, but he thought better than to say anything. “Don’t speak to anyone, unless they speak directly to you. Okay?” 

“Okay,” he nodded, landing in a puddle. Token chuckled, shaking his head slightly as Craig mumbled a few curses about how cold it was. The walk into the building was otherwise silent. 

“Seriously?” Craig asked as they stalled outside an automatic sliding door. The heat seeped out into the street, warming his toes. “What are we doing?” 

“I need to get cash. Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to,” Token chastised, rubbing his temples as they walked into the familiar building. 

And there she was, orange hair in a messy bun as she stood in a teller window. An older man chatted with her, obstructing her view as he scribbled on a deposit slip. Craig caught himself before he called to her, he wasn’t allowed to, he wasn’t supposed to. But oh, how he wanted to. 

“I can help you right here, sir,” a man in a polo shirt called from behind the counter. Token smiled, but shook his head. 

“I’ll wait for Mrs. Tucker, thank you kindly.” 

The man just shrugged and returned to his computer. Laura looked up briefly, meeting eyes with Token and nodding. She went back to talking with the man, animatedly using her hands as she pointed at his paper. Craig felt his stomach churn as she did a double take, eyes straying from Token and onto him. He smiled weakly, curling his toes, both from the cold and from the tension. 

If she recognized him, she didn’t say anything. It had been the better part of a year since she had seen him, siting car troubles and Tricia’s college fees as the reason. Tricia, his Beta sister, needed to go to college, he understood that. She had a future, and he tried not to hold her prioritization against the family.

Some days, he failed. 

“Next in line,” she called, looking at him again. He waved, a half wave close to his chest. Token pulled them both forward, grabbing onto Craig’s hand. Their fingers weren’t intertwined, not like it was with Tweek. They didn’t swing their hands back and forth, either. This wasn’t a relationship thing, he explained to himself, this was leading a dog on a leash. Even if there was inherit care in choosing to hold his hand instead of grip his wrist, it wasn’t a particularly affectionate gesture.

Not that Craig thought Token was someone who showed affectionate gestures, no, he was more of a willing bystander in all physical contact. He saw the way Clyde hung off of him, draping arms around his neck, squeezing at his side, kissing his face. It wasn’t as if Token initiated any of those touches. 

“Token, so nice to see you,” she greeted, a grin slowly stretching across her face. “Who did you bring in with you?” Craig quelled the rage he felt at that question as her eyes met his again, tears pricking at the corners. He wanted to tell her that she’d mess up her make-up, but couldn’t. He couldn’t say anything.

“New mate, Mrs. Tucker,” he said cooly. “A withdrawal slip, if you will.” 

“How lovely,” her eyes were watering, a tear snaking a way through her blush. He mouthed, don’t cry, careful not to let any sound leave his mouth. “He seems like a very nice young man.” 

“He is, indeed,” Token commented as he filled out the form. She stared, as if she’d seen a ghost. “You ought to come to dinner sometime, at our place.” 

“I’d, uh, I’d like that very much,” she stuttered, taking the paper and typing in all pertinent information. 

“He’s not feeling very well, but I think tonight would be best, if you could manage it,” Token smiled, watching her rifle through her drawer.

“Oh, tonight?” She asked, shock colouring her face as she stared at Craig again. “Why so soon?” 

“I really respect your advice, and there’s a situation with my other mate. The blonde one,” Token’s eyebrows were raised, hand still clutching Craig’s. 

“Oh, you took two mates?” Tears were rolling down her face freely. “They must be very lucky.”

“I don’t know that I’d call him lucky, in earnest,” Token sighed, looking quickly around the bank. “There is an incident, yes, an incident from a previous relationship.” Her eyes narrowed, looking him up and down in a sweeping motion. 

“This one doesn’t look like he has had any previous relationships worth mentioning,” she hissed out, leaning close to the glass. “Unless there is something that I am not seeing.”

“No, of course not. The second mate, the blonde one,” Token reiterated, “seems to have previous attachments from a relationship that ended, well it ended quite publically, if you can recall.” 

“Oh. Oh!” She exclaimed, pulling out a twenty dollar bill and sliding it through the hole in the plexiglass. “Is this attachment currently living with you? Do you need help handling the attachment?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Token answered. “It’s an urgent matter, as you would imagine, but if tonight is not a good night, I understand. Clyde is currently indisposed,” Craig gulped as Token spoke, feeling his stomach flip, “with my second mate. You know how these things go.” 

“I have an idea. I get off of work at five, if that works alright for you?”

“That would be splendid. I’ll pick up something from City Wok. I hope that is to your tastes.” 

“Yes, that would be nice, Mr. Black. Thank you so much for dropping in. I hope you, and your mate, new mate, I hope you have a nice day,” she wiped her eyes with the end of her sleeve, grinding heel of her hand into her eyes. “Your mate’s shoes look awfully familiar.” 

“I think they’re local. Have a nice a day as well, Mrs. Tucker.” Token said as they turned to walk away, still hand in hand. Craig wasn’t going to cry. He was not going to cry that he was not allowed to speak to his mother. They walked back to the car, his flip flops slapping against the tile floor.

“That went well,” Token said as the doors opened. Craig shivered against the wind, stepping a bit closer to Token, as if being side by side would shield him. “You did well.” 

“I want to talk with her,” Craig sighed, the wool scratching his face as he rubbed away a stray tear. “And a hug. I miss her.” 

“I’m sure you do, she’s very kind. She’s been checking in on me ever since my parents passed. She seems like an excellent mother.” 

“They passed?” Craig asked, snorting snot back into his nose. “That’s terrible.”

“It was the past, I’d prefer not to rehash those details right now,” Token deflected as the car honked to life. Craig rushed to the front seat, stepping in the same puddle again. “Do you feel well enough to try shopping again? We have until three to go and get Tweek.” 

“T,” Craig corrected. “We’re calling her T. That’s her nickname.” 

“Her name isn’t particularly important, just that we retrieve her on time,” he argued, pulling out of the parking lot. “Are you well enough to go shopping?” 

“I don’t want to go back to Walmart. I’m not good at just standing there. Maybe you should drop me off at home,” Craig complained, looking out the window. It’s not like Token could look back while driving. 

“We’re not going to Walmart,” Token clarified, turning the car away from town. Or Craig though it was away from town, but he wasn't certain. He couldn’t remember the ins and outs of his hometown. Would he be able to find his parent’s house from the bank? What about Token’s? Was the coffee shop to the right of them, or was it the left?

“Why are we leaving town?” Craig asked, drawn from his trance to see exit numbers. “I’m tired, Token. We didn’t get hardly any sleep last night. Tweek,” he gagged, wondering if Clyde would be biting over Tweek’s bond mark, the one he put there, “he was up early.” 

“Take a nap,” Token ordered. “It’s a ways off.” 

“Are you going to sell me?” Craig asked with a yawn. “That’d be a bitch move, for the record.” 

“God, have an iota of faith in me,” Token said as Craig leaned against the car window. “I wouldn’t invite your mother over for dinner, if I was going to sell you before then.” 

“So you’re going to sell me after?” Craig murmured as he started to drift to sleep.

“No, stop talking about it and stop thinking about it.” 

“Can you really sell me? Is that legal?” 

“Yeah, it is. But I’m not. I’m taking you to a special store. Just take a fucking nap, for fuck’s sake,” Token groaned as they merged onto the highway. Craig simply stared at the treeline, until his eyes sagged closed.


	5. Chapter 5

“Get out of the car,” Token placed a hand on Craig, shaking him slightly. “Need you to get up.”

“How long was I out for?” Craig yawned, fingertips grazing the headliner of the car as he stretched upwards.

“A while,” Token replied, opening the car door. Craig unbuckled his seatbelt, yawning again as Token held the door open for him. “We’re at Target.”

“Don’t touch anything. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t exist, Craig,” he mocked in a nasally tone. Token broke into a half smile, raising his eyebrows.

“Not exactly,” Token masked a chuckle with his hand as Craig climbed out of the car. “It’s a speciality store. Omega friendly.”

“Which means?” Craig asked, flip flops crashing into the ground. There was no puddle beneath him this time.

“You can touch stuff. Don’t talk to anyone, unless they talk to you,” Token said, pulling a cart from beside the car, “which they won’t. You can talk to me though.”

“Oh joy,” Craig teased, “I wanted to talk to Token, that’s it. My life’s dream has come true.” 

“Hush,” Token chided, “grab the cart so you don’t get lost. So people know you’re with me and not rogue.” Craig did as instructed, following Token through the parking lot. 

“Remember when we used to race these? Clyde would push you and me in the basket and Tweek would scream that we were going to die while Jimmy taped?” Craig laughed, trying to ignore the biting cold. Token nodded as they drew closer to the store. There was a sign in bold red letters plastered on the glass: Omega Friendly Target.

Beneath it was more text, the font smaller but no less red: If you prefer a more traditional experience, please shop at our other Denver locations. 

“We’re in Denver? You drove me to Denver?” Craig asked as the doors whooshed opened. 

“Yeah, figured you’d have an easier time adjusting if we shopped here,” Token shrugged, forcing the cart over the lip of the flooring. 

“Dude,” Craig paused, staring at the bright lights and the black and white animatronic dog on top of dollar store items, “you didn’t have to.” 

“Oh, I did,” Token corrected. “Because you were not going to make me a laughing stock in South Park.” 

“Hi there, you two,” a young woman smiled, her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail that swished from side to side as she talked. “How are you doing today?” 

“Doing well, thank you,” Token answered.

“And you,” the woman said, looking at Craig. He didn’t respond, just held the uncomfortable stare. “Not much of a talker, I see.” 

“No, ma’am, he isn’t,” Token sighed, moving them forward as Craig ducked his eyes away from her. “God damnit, Craig,” he muttered, huffing as they made their way towards the clothing sections. “She was speaking to you.” 

“I’m not supposed to, how was I supposed to know?” Craig huffed, dragging his feet as if his flip flops were skis. 

“She was looking right at you,” Token argued, turning into a mess of garment racks.

“So was the bitch with the toddler.”

“Please don’t talk like that in public,” Token chastised, slowing down to look at him. “I understand that you have a sailor’s mouth, but keep the public cursing to a minimum. For my sake.”

“Hate to bruise your ego,” Craig whispered, taking in the sights of all of the clothes. He couldn’t recall the last time he saw so many clothes. He had grown so accustomed to the large bin of donations that sat on the far side of the common room, that he had almost forgotten that clothes came from the store. That you could pick clothing by style, as opposed to what was the closest to fitting. 

“We have to go to the Omega section,” Token steered them through the racks, dresses to Craig’s left and button-ups to Craig’s right. 

“We have a section?” Craig asked, reaching out to finger the material of a silky looking blouse. Was it real silk? Surely Target, the cousin of Walmart, didn’t have real silk in store. What was it them?

“Don’t touch,” Token hissed, encircling his wrist. 

“You said I could touch,” Craig complained, putting both hands back onto the cart. 

“You can’t touch the clothing outside of your section. There are signs everywhere, I thought you could read.” 

“Fuck you, I can read.” 

“Language,” Token had stopped in front a few racks, pointing directly in front of him. “And, if you can read, you ought to apply those skills sometime.” The signs did, in fact, politely ask, in their passive aggressive chain store way, that the Omegas refrain from touching clothing from outside their section, please and thank you, violators will be prosecuted.

“Why take me here, if it’s the same?” 

Token pointed to a far off corner of the store, the back of the clothing section, which was dotted with a fucked up upside down U. Craig recognized the symbol immediately, from their precursory sexual education classes they had in freshman year. Not that he paid too much attention, coming from a family of Betas.

Ω was the sign for Omega. There were other signs too, but no one ever needed to quickly identify Alphas or Betas. As the items of clothing came into focus he saw that they were all adorned with the mark. A Ω stitched into the sleeves of most items, as well as the the back, and the front. Some designs went as far as to have that be the pattern, repeating over and over from seam to seam. 

“This is you’re section,” Token clarified, pointing to the clothes Craig was already gawking at. “Pick out a three or four shirts for you and Tweek, some pants, and a pair of pajamas.” 

“Each?” Craig asked, hand hovering over the garish racks. The garments were soft enough, seemingly all cotton. 

“Yeah, each,” Token smirked, resting his weight on the cart as Craig browsed. “You don’t want to do laundry every two days, do you? We’ll get some more stuff from somewhere a little bit,” he coughed, glancing around the mostly empty store, “nicer. We’re not trashy, Craig. You can’t look trashy, if you’re my mate.” 

“Good thing I’m not then,” Craig sneered, holding up a green shirt covered with Ω symbols.

“For all intents and purposes, you and Tweek are my mates,” Token scoffed, eyes shifting around the room again. “Pick solid colors, please. In case I have to take you into public.” 

“But Token,” Craig teased in a monotone voice, still holding the shirt in his hands, “I want to really stand out.” 

“Just put the shirt back before I pick your clothing for you,” Token jeered, heading towards the rack. “What are you a small? You’re like 5’ 4”, is that an extra small?” 

“I think just a regular small is fine,” Craig sulked, flipping through articles of clothing. “Can we just go to the table? I don’t want anything that’s hanging, it’s all too loud.” 

“I think you’re an extra small,” Token pressed, holding what appeared to be a dress in his hands. “The sizing chart says an extra small in Omega Males is a 5’3” to 5’4”. It’s not like you’re fat.” 

“Glad that you think I’m thin,” Craig sighed, walking away.

“Tweek is a medium,” Token called out, following him towards a display of t-shirts. “Or maybe a large. It says 5’7” is a medium, but then the large starts at 5’7”. Go with the large.” 

“I’m getting a small. I’m not an extra small. I’m not extraordinarily small,” Craig argued, pulling a two black shirts from the pile, one a small and one a large. He dropped them into the cart, repeating the action with a dark blue, and a dark green. Three shirts, done. 

“Grab another, get the maroon,” Token commanded, doing the work himself. 

“I’m amazed it isn’t above you to touch such lowly items of clothing, Alpha,” Craig sneered. 

“I drove all the way to Denver for you; you don’t need to be such an asshole.” 

“Language, Token,” Craig said, a smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks though. I, uh, I appreciate it.” 

“You’re welcome,” he said, pushing the cart to the next section. “Pick out some pants.” 

Craig tried to do as instructed, thumbing through the jeans, pulling out pairs, and holding them to his waist. They weren’t like traditional jeans though, sewn into the waist, instead of a button and a zipper, were elastic bands, about as wide as Token’s hands. He shoved the pair back, grabbing the small from another stack, and finding the same thing. 

“What’s wrong with these?” Craig asked, pulling at the stretchy material.

“Nothing,” Token said nonchalantly, hardly looking up from his phone. 

“They’re all, ugh, they’re weird,” Craig complained, placing the unfolded pair back onto the top of the stack. 

“They’re Omega jeans. What did you expect?” Token asked, glancing up from the phone for a few more seconds. 

“I don’t know,” he wondered, picking the pants back up, “a zipper? Why are they stretchy?” 

“For when you get pregnant.” 

“But I won’t always be pregnant,” Craig rationalized, holding them to his waist. 

“The average Omega has six children,” Token said, looking back at his phone and swiping his finger. “Five for affluent Omegas and eight for Omegas below the poverty line.” 

“Six?” Craig asked, mouth feeling dry. 

“Per Omega. Not that I plan on having nine children, but you get the idea. It doesn’t make fiscal sense to have two sets of clothing.” 

“But why this?” Craig asked, pulling the elastic band taut.

“I’m sure Tweek will be able to explain to you how uncomfortable pregnancy is,” Token sighed, placing his phone in his pocket. 

“We can’t even have buttons?” Craig asked again, dropping his pants, size small, into the cart. 

“From what I’ve heard from the Beta women in my office, you won’t want them. Something about pinching, I’m not certain. Just trust the professionals and get the pants,” Token said, heading over to the table to grab two pairs of size large pants. “Two dark wash.” 

“Fine,” he said, pulling another from the pile and sticking it into the cart.

They continued shopping, strolling by a display for heat wear and accessories. He looked, open mouthed, at the underthings on display. Lace panties designed to tear. Cock rings that were flavored, for maximum head during a heat. A rope kit, as the box read, for a loud heat experience. There was even a bin of toys, in case you were unable to get off of work, but were tired of coming home to a destroyed home. Craig couldn’t recall ever wanting to destroy anything while he was on his heat, but he didn’t recall much of anything about his heats. He couldn’t even say for certain who he spent his heats with. 

God, Tweek was in heat right now, crying underneath Clyde instead of Craig. He looked at the display again, to see Token rifling through the hanging underwear, throwing a few into the basket. They weren’t the speciality tearable kind, but they were a deep red lace, flowers in the design, translucent all the way around, even the crotch. 

“Clyde likes them,” Token whispered, tossing in another pair. “And I’m fine with whatever he wants, in this sort of thing.”  

“I don’t want him doing that to Tweek,” Craig spat, ripping a pair out of the cart. He held them up, realized they were much bigger than he or Tweek, then slowly lowered them back into the cart.

Token burst into laughter, covering his mouth with his hand. He went back to looking, handing a black pair to Craig. 

“Me?” Craig asked, holding them at a distance. “I might not have a heat for a while,” he trailed off, thinking about their uncomfortable conversation in the car. 

“We have an appointment with a specialist on Thursday,” Token reassured, patting him on the back a few times. “And not for your heat, just for fun.” 

“For us?” Craig asked, wrinkling his nose a bit. 

“God, no,” Token harshly whispered. “For Tweek. He seems like he might like to see you in lingerie. A surprise for you two.” Craig’s eyes grew wide as he nodded, tossing them into the cart. Would Tweek like lingerie? Craig had a feeling he would. Tweek was always the more eccentric in their sex life, tying his hands behind his back with an old shirt, denying him orgasm, skullfucking. Craig let out a moan at the thought. 

“We can get you ladies underthings, if you’d enjoy that,” Token smiled, pushing the cart again. “Tweek seems like he’d be upset if I did that for him, but you, it’s a bit harder to tell.” 

Craig felt a blush burn through his face as they sifted through the ladies underwear. He pulled out a few from the pile, less lace than the others, cotton with lace waistbands in bright colors. 

“Is this weird?” Craig asked, holding up a periwinkle pair with a fish pattern. “Is the cashier going to look at us funny?”

“Doubt it,” Token said, plucking them from Craig’s hand and throwing them into the cart. “It’s not like we’re buying hot sauce, condoms, Vaseline, and a cucumber.” 

“Clyde,” Craig groaned, remembering the four of them going to purchase those items from Publix. Jimmy even had the balls to stare at the cashier as he scanned the items, making small talk about a party they were going to have. Craig just blushed in the background, as Token and Clyde laughed their asses off. 

“He tries to get me do things like that, still,” Token chuckled, moving towards a rack of men’s underwear. Men’s underwear was sold in packs, not individually. There was no sifting for your size and color in a giant bin, just grabbing for a pack of small men’s briefs. Small in regular men, because there was no way in hell those would ever stay on Craig’s ass. 

“T,” Craig blurted out, passing a fixture with children’s underwear. “She has no clothing.” 

“They gave us a bag,” Token argued, reluctantly following Craig as he snaked away towards the underwear, wondering if she was a small or a medium. 

“They don’t fit,” Craig said, deciding she was a medium. He hoped she didn’t hate whoever the Paw Patrol was. Dogs were always a hit, right? “She doesn’t even have a coat.” 

“Of course they don’t,” Token sighed, nodding to let Craig know to get the items. “Just get a few things. Again, we’re not trashy.” 

“She likes leggings,” Craig thought aloud, causing Token to grin. “The pink ones are her favorite thing she has. They gave them to her at the group home, I guess. Do you think she likes blue? Do girls like blue? She should have more than one colour of pants, you know?” 

“Look at you,” Token cooed, only coming off as a little condescending. “Mr. Mom.” 

“Shh,” Craig shushed as he pulled a pack of seven socks off of a hook, plain white without any bells or whistles. Tricia used to hate having anything that would bother her feet on her socks, bows, decals, patterns in the stitching. Maybe all little girls were the same. 

“No, it’s cute,” Token said earnestly. “You need socks and a coat. Don’t forget about you.” 

“She just needs a parent,” Craig clarified, walking towards the men’s socks. 

“And you’re going to be it?” Token asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“I always wanted to be one,” Craig admitted with a shrug. “Like a dream of mine, or something stupid like that.” Craig looked back at the cart to see him frowning, wrinkles branching out from the corners of his mouth. 

“Are you lying to me?” Token asked. “Don’t lie to me.” 

“No,” Craig shook his head, grabbing a pack of 15 crew cut socks, size small. Tweek didn’t have particularly big feet, and neither did he. “I figured I would. I wasn’t that upset when I presented. It sucks that I can’t.”

“You really didn’t know?” Token pushed, making a U-turn with the cart.

“No,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I wanted too. I was sort of excited. T is nice, close enough, right? My partners kid is my kid, since I can’t, I’m not, since I’m broken.” He rubbed at his eyes, tears starting to trace their way down his cheeks. 

“Come here,” Token ordered. He reluctantly listened, dragging his feet against the ground as he shuffled towards him. He was surprised to be met with a hug. “We’re going to fix it.” 

“I didn’t mean to lie to you, Token,” he choked out, face rubbing into the starchy button up. “I wanted to. I really want to. It’s not fair.” 

“It’s not,” Token murmured into the top of his head. “It’s really not.” 

“I used to steal Tricia’s baby dolls, because she was mean to them. She’d bang their head against the stairs,” he laughed wetly, “and I’d tell her, you can’t do that, they’re babies. I’d pretend to feed them and I’d rock them to sleep.” 

“That was sweet of you.” 

“Dad said it was kind of faggy,” Craig laughed louder. 

“Yeah, that too. But mostly sweet,” Token agreed, laughing along. 

“He told me not to do that in public, ‘cause I’d get my ass beat, so I didn’t,” Craig stopped laughing, wiping his eyes on the shirt. “I’m not so tough.” 

“You don’t come off as tough, at all,” Token admitted. “After like a week of knowing you, I knew you were a softy. You used to take the bugs Clyde found and set them free.” 

“We both knew he was going to kill them,” Craig said, pulling away from the hug. “He was a clumsy kid, and I didn’t want those caterpillar lives weighing on my soul.” 

“You need a coat,” Token changed the subject, pushing the car with Craig pressed into his side. “Tweek, too.

“Like a hoodie?” Craig asked, sniffing loudly. 

“No, like a winter coat,” he clarified, heading back towards the Omega section. “Do you want me to pick it? Are you too overwhelmed to pick one?” 

“I’m not like, I’m not a delicate flower, Token. I can pick. Presenting didn’t make me dumb.” 

“I never said it did,” Token argued. “The book says that sometimes, Omegas can have trouble making decisions that I would see as very simple. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He grabbed a black coat, draping it around Craig’s shoulders. “Slip it on real quick, and we can see if it fits.” 

“I’m wearing a coat. How do you try on a coat on top of another coat?” Craig asked, handing the coat back to Token. “This is fine.” 

“Want Tweek to match?” He asked, holding up a larger coat. “Would Tweek care?”

“Whatever,” Craig murmured, wiping his eyes again. “The same is fine” 

They left the section, returning to the little girls clothing, where Craig struggled to choose items. He couldn’t decide if she’d like an extra pink pair of leggings, or a blue pair, or maybe a green pair. Tweek liked green, it was his favorite, but who knew if that was her favorite. Were favorite colors hereditary?

“Just grab a few,” Token sighed, looking at his phone. He was typing with both thumbs, though Craig didn’t dare ask to whom. “Like five pairs, we’ll go somewhere nicer when thing settle down.” 

“Because we’re not trashy,” Craig chuckled, grabbing the green pair after all. “She needs shirts. What kind of shirts do you think she’ll like?” Craig asked. 

“I don’t know,” Token huffed. “Just make sure they fit.” He piled five into the cart, a random assortment of colors and decals, but all size seven. They didn’t really match, but she was six. Did six year olds care about fashion? “Grab a coat. Then we’re getting you shoes.”

“Clyde runs a shoe store,” Craig deadpanned. 

“Clyde is balls deep in Tweek, and you need shoes today.” 

“Don’t say that,” he whispered. “I don’t want to think about that.” 

“What? Can you fault them for going with their basic instincts?” Token plucked a black coat with a faux fur hood off of the rack. “It’s not like they’re in love, they’re just doing what nature intended.” 

“It doesn’t bother you?” Craig asked, checking the tag on the coat. He nodded, letting it be added to the growing collection of clothing. 

“Is it bothering you?” 

“Yes,” Craig admitted, looking at his toes through his flip flops. “Tweek and I are mates.” Token hurriedly looked around, as if he was making a drug deal in the middle of Target. 

“Not so loud,” he hissed, speed walking through the store. “It’s not like Clyde is his mate. Clyde is my mate. We’re very comfortable in that. Clyde would fuck a beta girl. His porn tastes are, how should I say it, inclusive.” 

“Besides,” he continued, lifting up Craig’s knee to pull of his shoe, “Tweek hates us. It’s not like Tweek would ever leave you, especially not for Clyde.” He sat Craig on a bench, bringing a metal sizer to his foot, adjusting the knobs as if he had done it a hundred times. “You’re a seven, a narrow, but I doubt they have narrow sizes. A seven will work for now. Do you care what kind?” 

“Closed toe?” Craig asked, sounding distant. 

“Yeah, of course,” Token added, pulling a box from a stack and shoving it into the cart. “Hey, cheer up. Do you want anything special?” 

“Besides a whole wardrobe?” Craig scoffed. “You’ve done enough. Thanks, Token.” 

“These are needs,” he argued, grabbing Craig’s hand and pulling him to his feet. “Maybe not the underwear, but the rest were needs. Let me do something nice for you.” 

“This is nice,” Craig groaned. “You don’t have to do any of this. You could have just left us there.” 

“Nah, I couldn’t, man. We’re friends. Even if you presented. We’re friends. Even if we’re both different, we’re friends. Do you two read books? Watch movies? I’m not going to be able to babysit you two all day. Clyde either. Not until there’s a baby, anyway.” 

“Tweek likes books,” Craig drummed his fingers against the the cart, bumping into Token’s shoulder. “But I don’t know what kind.”

“Board games?” Token asked. “We’ll ask him about the books later.” 

“Puzzles,” Craig timidly said, looking up at Token. “We used to do puzzles together. Tweek is really good at them.” 

“You want a puzzle?” Token asked, steering the cart towards the toy section. “Like 500 pieces?” 

“He likes architecture,” Craig murmured.

“Yeah, he used to say he was going to be an engineer,” Token said. “Does Tweek need toys?” 

“T? I mean, yes, probably? I’d want toys, wouldn’t you?” Craig asked, fiddling with his hands. 

“I had toys at six. Everyone had toys. We’ll set her up. I’ll clean that room out, too. Help me pick.” 

Craig nodded, walking through the toy section. He glanced at the price tags, grimacing as he thought about the money Token was spending. His parents would never buy him a new wardrobe out of the blue, not that they wouldn’t want to, but they wouldn’t be capable. He flinched as he grabbed for a box of Legos, $15.99 for a little box. 

“This is a lot of money,” he said as he ghosted his fingers against the cardboard box. “I think Tweek would play with her, if there were Legos. Those are his favorite. Were his favorite.” 

“How much is a lot?” Token asked, peering at the label. “It’s not even twenty dollars,” he snorted. “It’s not like I’m poor, Craig. Do you know how much you cost?” 

“You paid for me?” Craig’s jaw was slack. You can’t buy people. There’s no way you could purchase a person. 

“I mean, to say I purchased you is simplifying a bit, but after home inspections and government reimbursements the two of you were about a hundred thousand dollars. I got a last minute discount, because Tweek had a child who was in the system, in an effort to make him more enticing.”

“My family couldn’t build a heat room because it was two grand,” Craig grumbled, hunching over. “Mom used to skip visits because she couldn’t put gas in the car. That’s so much money, Token. It’s hard to think about.” 

“I tried to give them cash,” he said, clasping a hand on Craig’s back. “I always tried to give your mother money. Just pick things you’d think she’d like. You’re the parent, huh?” 

“I’m the parent,” Craig repeated. “She’s a good kid. She’ll be a good kid.” 

“Think she wants the blonde girl?” Token asked, holding the box Craig was previously touching. “Just pick a few things and we’ll take her to the store, later.” 

“Can we tell her Tweek picked them?” Craig asked, picking up a box assorted bricks. “The Legos, so she can think he cares?” 

“Say whatever you want,” Token shrugged. “I’ve spent like a minute with her. I doubt I’ll be very involved.” 

“You don’t want to?” Craig prodded, deciding that two boxes of Legos was enough.

“I mean, legally,” Token snagged another box off of the shelf, throwing it into the cart without hesitation. “She’ll be Tweek Black, so for what it’s worth, she’s my kid.” 

“Am I Craig Black?” He asked, turning to stare at Token.

“As of this morning, yes, you are. Clyde will be Clyde Black by the end of it, too.” 

“That’s so weird.” 

“I guess,” he groaned, “I mean, it’s not weird to me. It’s the natural order of things. Omega’s take their Alpha’s names. I don’t want her to feel left out, and it’s not like there’s another Alpha chomping at the bit for custody. It looks bad to have a child with a different last name under my roof.” 

“Oh, okay,” Craig scoffed. “You’re not soft at all, it’s all aesthetics.” They resumed walking, browsing through the products. “Would she like a soccer ball?” 

“Clyde played soccer. I bet he’d play with her,” Token laughed as Craig picked up a ball, trying to headbutt it. It flew into a rack of cars, causing them to clatter to the ground. “Stop it. Craig don’t get us kicked out of Target.” 

“That was always Clyde’s thing, wasn’t it?” He asked as he scooped cars off of the ground. Fumbling, he hung them back up, some facing the wrong way. The last three on the floor, he placed into the cart.

“Yeah, God. The trouble we got into when I was in college,” he snorted, examining one of the cars in the cart. “He thought it would be cool to be try to spend the night in IKEA. When they found us in the morning, they were so angry.” 

“Typical Clyde,” Craig grinned, stopping at an endcap. “Do you think she’d like a doll?” 

“I don’t know jack about kids,” Token admitted. “Clyde wants the kids, I enjoy our bachelor lifestyle.”

“A puzzle!” Craig shouted, then covered his mouth. “Fuck, I mean, damnit, oh man, this is hard.” 

“A puzzle?” Token arched an eyebrow. “You’re going to get Tweek one, why are you shouting?” 

He didn’t explain his thoughts, just rushed towards the puzzles, wondering what kind of puzzle Tweek would want, and what kind T would be able to do. Was a 100 pieces too many pieces for a six year old? Would 24 pieces be boring? He picked up two puzzles, one with a fairy princess on the box, sealed in a bag, and another, 100 pieces featuring a firetruck. Tricia liked firetrucks when she was little, so maybe T would. He weighed them in his hands, trying to make a decision. 

“Get them both,” Token said. “I don’t care.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, dude, I’m sure,” Token reassured, taking them from his hands and placing them in the cart. 

“Can I get Tweek this one?” He asked, picking up a 1000 piece puzzle of a decaying castle. He used to talk about abandoned buildings a bunch when they were kids, saying that there were probably ghosts there. He used to scream when Craig bragged about how he broke into the abandoned gas station on the outskirts of town, shrieking that it was irresponsible, that he might be possessed. 

He had mellowed out a lot, Craig thought as Token nodded. When they meet up at the home, Tweek sulked alone in the corner of the room. It had taken a few days of staring at the figure wrapped in a blanket for Craig to place him. When he finally approached him, he thought it was a smart to touch him, to hug his boyfriend, though he figured they were exes. Tweek had screamed, spitting in his face and demanded that he take a step back, because he wasn’t about to become some Alpha’s bitch, even if he did look familiar.

When it sunk in that he was Craig, not an Alpha, just Craig, his long term boyfriend, who was also an Omega, he clung. They did everything together. They ate together. They watched TV together. Tweek read his boring nonfiction books aloud so that Craig could experience the excitement of war, in real time, with him. Craig had even pretended to enjoy it. The sound of Tweek’s voice was enjoyable. The familiarity of Tweek was enjoyable. 

“Earth to Craig,” Token joked, snapping his fingers a few times. “We need to get a booster seat, while we’re here.” 

“She can eat at the table,” Craig said after a few moments. 

“For the car,” Token corrected, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll pick it out.” 

Craig dutifully followed Token through the store, waiting patiently as he hemmed and hawed over brands of car seat. He pulled out his phone a few times, clicking his tongue as browsed through what Craig could only assume were reviews. 

He grabbed a box, rotating it in his arms, looking at the pictures and text. He sighed, placing it in the middle of the walkway, taking out his phone again. It seemed like a good option to Craig, but what did he know? Token browsed for a minute or two, then nodded twice. He bent down, sliding the car seat underneath the cart. 

“We’re good to go. Unless you can think of anything else?” Craig was fairly certain that the bulk of the store was in their cart. He had never seen a cart so full, not even with groceries. He shook his head, not wanting to be told that this was normal, again.

They walked wordlessly to the checkout. Craig stared at the cart, toys peeking out over the red lip of the basket. Token unloaded it, greeting the man behind the counter with a canned greeting. 

“You two doing alright today?” The man asked, staring at his register. “Toys, that’s fun. A birthday?” 

“Something like that,” Token answered before Craig could open his mouth.

“That’s exciting,” he said in a droll voice. The belt moved forward with piles of clothes. Craig gnawed at a cuticle, ripping at the nail with his teeth. 

“Uh-huh,” Token agreed as the man scanned the underwear. Craig blushed, feeling like he was going to explode. He probably thought they were perverts, which would be fair. They were perverts, weren’t they? Weren’t both of their relationships some sort of perversion? Omegas weren’t supposed to have relationships with each other, and Alphas certainly were not supposed to be romantically involved. 

Pack dynamics between Alphas were based in submission, not in sexual attraction. It was an insult to be the second Alpha in a pack, a dig at that Alpha’s strength. They weren’t Clyde wrapping his arms around Token, sighing as he kissed him. That’s not what they were supposed to be like. 

And Craig was certain that Token knew that. 

“$576.98,” the man said, like people spent this much on a daily basis in the store. Like Craig’s family had spent this much on anything that wasn’t their mortgage. Token nodded, saying, yes, this is a normal transaction, as he swiped a silver card. 

“Thanks,” the man said, dumping things back into the cart. “Have a nice day.” 

“You too,” Craig slipped. The man frowned as they rushed out of the store. Craig expected for Token to chastise him, to remind him of his place. 

“Jesus Christ,” Token laughed, wiping at his forehead. “That man seemed as excitable as you are. That’s a rarity.” 

Craig thought, and it was a fleeting thought, that maybe things with Token weren’t exactly as they seemed. Maybe Token didn’t think less of him. Maybe there was an altruistic reason for rescuing the two of them from that place. He admitted to not wanting children, not even an hour ago, so why go through the trouble to get them at the age of twenty one? 

“You feel well enough to eat?” Token asked, slamming his car door. “There’s a Panera close.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Craig smiled, fiddling with car stereo.


	6. Chapter 6

“My stomach hurts,” T moaned, draping her small body off the side of the couch, left arm and leg dangling towards the worn carpet. “Craig, do something.”    
  
He stuttered, looking around the apartment. Tweek was still busy with Clyde, he shuddered at the thought. He didn’t know anything about children, not in any concrete sense. He supposed Tweek didn’t either, but she was his. He’d instinctively know, right?    
  
Parents always seemed to magically just know the answers.    
  
“Craig!” She shouted, hucking a shoe across the room. It bounced off of the wall, leaving a dent in the drywall. “It hurts!”    
  
“We don’t throw,” he scolded, while rummaging around the mostly empty kitchen, save for the City Walk meals that Token had ordered. “Are you sure you don’t want to try some chicken? Maybe you’re hungry.”    
  
“I’m not,” she rolled her eyes, but didn’t get up. Instead, she curled into a ball, tucking her knees in front of her stomach, and groaned. Craig was fairly certain it was a show, but she looked pale.    
  
“Let’s try to drink some water,” he said, trying to sound like an authority on the subject. Like he wasn’t in a home two days ago. He pulled a glass out of the cupboard, scalloping around the base, and filled it to the brim with tap water. He rushed towards her, careful not to spill.    
  
“I don’t want it,” she huffed, sitting up. She winced, involuntarily. Or this child was a next level actor, at age six. “I’m not thirsty, my stomach hurts.”    
  
“Just try to drink the water,” he insisted, placing the glass in her hands. It sloshed out, onto the couch as she sipped. She was shaking, ever so slightly. “There’s soup, wonton, if you want to try to eat that.”   
  
“I’m not hungry,” she complained. “It hurts, Craig. Fix it, stupid.”    
  
“Hey, let’s not call people stupid,” he left the glass with her, getting up to grab a container of soup for her. Surely, she’d eat it. Soup when you’re sick is the best, he rationed. She’d eat it, and feel better in short order.    
  
As he walked back over, with the plastic to-go container, lid still on and a plastic spoon, someone knocked on the door.   
  
“Craig,” a familiar voice called through the door, “it’s Mom, go ahead and open the door.”    
  
“Laura!” T shouted, dropping the glass onto the carpet in her excitement. Water soaked into the carpet as the glass broke into three with a crash.    
“Shit, shit, shit,” Craig mumbled, pulling half a roll of paper towels into the kitchen. Was it six already? “Be right there, Mom. Sort of have,” he dabbed at the carpet, not soaking up much of anything, “an emergency.”    
  
“Just let me in,” she sighed. “I’ll help.”    
  
“Okay, okay,” he shouted, leaving the wet paper towels in a ball on top of the carpet. He sprang towards the door, fumbling with the lock for a few seconds, do they unlock to the left or the right? He couldn’t remember.    
  
“Craig,” his mom said softly as soon as he got the door open, eyes full of tears, “it’s so good to see you.”    
  
“Mom,” he sighed, wrapping into one of her hugs as T shouted in the background.    
  
“Tweek?” His mother asked, breaking away to rush inside. “Jesus, what happened sweetie?”    
  
“My stomach hurts,” she complained, tears streaming down her face. “Really bad.”    
  
“Why are you bleeding?” Craig asked, dumbfounded. He saw a hunk of broken glass in her hand, which was dripping blood onto the carpet.    
  
“I wanted to help,” she cried, offering her hand to Laura Tucker. “Laura, fix it. My stomach hurts.”    
  
“I know, honey,” she shushed her, grabbing a wad of damp paper towels from the ground and pressing it into her hand. “You are a good helper.” 

Craig didn’t know how true that was. On the other side of the room, there was a dent in the wall from her shoe, but he let it ride. His mother bent over her, pressing into the cut, and, with her free hand, felt her forehead.    
  
“Craig, she has a fever,” she chided, her eyes slightly narrowed at her son. “Not a very high one, but a fever nonetheless. Let’s put her to bed. Which room is her room?”    
  
“She doesn’t, uh,” he stopped, not wanting to say that she didn’t have a space, that she didn’t belong, not when her eyes were brimming with tears. “Put her on the big bed, I guess. I’ll sleep on the couch.”    
  
“One, two, three,” she chanted, before hoisting T up in her arms, like she weighed nothing. Like she wasn’t an average sized six year old. “Say goodnight, Craig.”    
  
“Goodnight, I hope you feel better,” he went back to cleaning up the mess, rubbing disintegrating towels into the carpet, before he decided to rifle through the kitchen for a real towel. He trashed the soaping mess of paper, along with the broken glass, and started anew with a worn dish cloth.    
  
“She’s sleeping,” the suddenness of his mother peering over his shoulder as he cleaned caused him to jump.    
  
“Christ, you scared me, Mom,” he started in a laugh, but once he was in her arms again, he started to cry.   
  
“Hey, you’re alright,” she encouraged him, rubbing a hand up and down on his back. “You’re back in town, that’s good, right?”    
  
“Tweek is fucking Clyde,” it poured from him, along with more tears. “Like right now. And then T, Tweek had a kid and he didn’t tell me. I didn’t know. Token didn’t know.”    
  
“Hush, it’s fine. You’re married to Clyde and Token, it’s only natural you’ll do those things,” she reassured him. “You need to keep a stiff upper lip for that little girl in there. She needs you to be a good influence, Craig.”    
  
“She’s a fucking trainwreck,” he whispered, standing on his toes, still in the hug, to look towards the closed bedroom door. “She called Tweek a slut. Like in the first twenty words to her dad, she called him a slut.”    
  
“She doesn’t know him. She’s a good kid, deep down. Remember when Tricia was little?” Craig nodded, even though he couldn’t think of what story she was about to tell. “Well, she went to school, and one of her classmates said I had,” she cleared her throat, “a magic bush.”    
  
“Oh my god, Mom, I don’t want to talk about that,” Craig interjected, feeling himself blush at the mere mention.    
  
“No, listen to me. Tricia was around Tweek’s age, and she came home singing that song. She didn’t realize it was wrong, she just did it because someone taught her the song.”   
  
“She’s a nightmare,” he hissed. “She threw her shoe because her stomach hurt. She’s not how I imagined having kids would be.”    
  
“Welcome to parenthood, honey,” she laughed, finally breaking apart the hug.    
  
“Do you want to eat? Token got Sweet and Sour Chicken and City Beef and Broccoli, it’s enough for both of us.”   
  
“That’d be nice,” she nodded. Craig pointed toward the couch, where they ate bad Chinese in relative silence while the TV played in the background.   
  
  


* * *

 

“He’s probably hungry,” Craig argued, at the front door to Token’s mansion in his night clothes, a pair of boxers and a loose fitting t shirt he’d taken from the home. “Just let me take care of him for an hour, please.”    
  
“He’s fine. Are you trying to insinuate that I’m not a good caretaker?” Token raised an eyebrow, challenging him to say anything.    
  
“I just,” Craig started, raking an hand through his hair. “Please, I just need to know he’s okay.” Craig looked at him, eyes wide and purposefully trembling a bit in the night air. He was sure he looked pathetic, he just wasn’t sure he was pathetic enough to win Token over.    
  
“Fine,” he sighed, ushering him inside, “five minutes. They’re both sleeping. I’m sure Tweek’s milked Clyde for everything he’s got at this point. God, I’m glad heats are only a two day thing.” Craig felt his stomach fall as he listened to Token. “Soundproofing only does so much, my man.”   
  
“Stop,” he said it softly, almost soft enough to get lost in the din of walking up stairs. Token nodded, stern faced as he opened the door.    
  
It reeked of sex. Not just any sex, Craig thought, no, that was certainly what Tweek smelled like during heats. He pulled his shirt over his nose, and breathed through his mouth as he approached them, sleeping in a pile of limbs in the nest.    
  
“Disgusting,” Token grimaced, before copying Craig. He looked ridiculous with his shirt over his face, but that wasn’t the point.   
  
“Tweek, honey,” Craig said, creeping next to them. They were both fast asleep, bodies slick with sweat. “Sweetheart, do you want some water?”    
  
A groan was his reply. Craig nodded, like Tweek could see him. Like it mattered.    
  
“I’m just gonna lay next to you for a bit,” he pressed his body as flush as he could against Tweek. They fell asleep while knotted, Craig felt bile creep up his throat. Maybe T was contagious.    
  
“I love you honey,” he whispered, pressing his fingertips into their bond mark, one by one. “I’m not mad at you.” He said that last bit mostly for himself, to convince himself he wasn’t mad about the situation. 

****He had no grounds to be mad. This was purely biological, and it’s not as if love and loyalty trumped primal instinct. It was unfair to hold Tweek to an impossible standard.  
  
“Time to go,” Token sighed, looking at his watch. “Go home, go to bed. Tweek will be yours again by this time tomorrow.”   
  
Craig nodded, kissing Tweek’s temple as he left. 


	7. Chapter 7

“I can’t sleep. I don’t feel good,” T whined, crawling next to Craig who had dozed off watching TV on the couch. He startled awake, kicking off his blanket and blinking his eyes rapidly at her.    
  
“Okay,” he sighed, relaxing when he realized it wasn’t an emergency.    
  
“My tummy hurts,” she complained, clutching her stomach with both hands. “Craig, it hurts.”    
  
“How bad?” He asked, as if he could get reliable information from a child.    
  
“Really bad. Like my stomach is going to be torn out by a monster.” He nodded as she spoke. He resituted the blanket onto the both of them, covering her body as she pressed into his side.    
  
“Wanna watch cartoons?” He asked, already reaching for the remote. “No school tomorrow,” he glanced at the calendar, to make sure that was true. It was. He glanced at the clock; it was 2:20 AM on Saturday. He groaned and resituated himself to watch the late night line up of Cartoon Network. Shows he hadn’t seen since he was a kid. Shows T had probably never seen.    
  
Maybe it would be a good bonding experience, he thought. Maybe she and him would have something in common, and they’d become fast friends. They watched episodes of the Powerpuff Girls in relative silence, an occasional yawn as she pressed her body into his side, slowly scooting into his lap. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t so much as move a finger by the time she fell asleep in his arms.   
  
  


 

* * *

  
  
“How dare he!” Tweek screamed as he threw the door to the apartment open. He was stark naked and fuming, his face beet red.    
  
“Huh?” Craig asked, once again jolting awake on the couch. “Tweek?”   
  
“Oh, don’t you Tweek me,” he shouted, slamming the door loud enough to startle T. She jumped out of her seat, breaking through Craig’s hold, and ran to the bathroom, where she quickly shut the door.    
  
“Tweek,” Craig said slowly, voice quiet. “Tweek, honey-”    
  
“Don’t call me honey! You don’t get to call me honey! You left me alone with him. He used me. He used my heat. I didn’t want him to! I didn’t fucking want to, Craig!”    
  
“I know!” He shouted, standing up and clearing his throat. “I know,” he said softer. “I tried to get you to leave, I did. You went into heat too fast. I couldn’t,” he faltered, blinking his eyes rapidly, “I couldn’t do anything. I can’t fight Clyde. You know I can’t fight Clyde.”    
  
“You can’t even fight me,” Tweek sighed, walking towards Craig. They meet in the middle of the room, engaged in what started as an awkward hug. Tweek towered a good head above Craig, even while slumped in on himself. “I didn’t want to.”    
  
“I know, babe,” he muttered into Tweek’s chest. He still smelled like sex and sweat. Sex and sweat, and Clyde. He sniffed again, tilting his head upwards to make brief eye contact. Tears welled up in Tweek’s eyes, threatening to spill. 

“I’m not angry,” Craig said. Which he wasn’t. He wasn’t angry. Not at Tweek.    
  
“I know,” Tweek’s voice broke mid statement, and Craig could feel his shoulders begin to heave. “You’re not mad at me.”    
  
“Never,” which was a lie. He frequently got angry at Tweek, but Tweek was like a lighthouse, a steady constant presence in Craig’s life. Who knows where he’d be without Tweek. Probably married to one of the few strangers who came in and talked to him.   
  
“Wanna shower?” Craig asked, unwrapping his arms from Tweek. “I’ll wash your back.”    
  
“I love you,” Tweek said, wiping his eyes as he nodded.    
  
They went into the bathroom to find T huddled in the bathtub, arms hugging her knees close to her chest. She cried softly as she rocked herself back and forth; her head buried between her knees.    
  
“Out of the tub,” Tweek barked, furiously wiping at his eyes. “You’re not a baby are you? Why are you crying?”   
  
“I’m not,” she looked up, the rims of her eyes red. “I’m not a baby. My stomach just hurts.”    
  
“Still?” Craig asked, putting his body between the two of them. “Let’s go get you something to drink, huh?”    
  
She nodded quickly, reaching for Craig’s hand to pull her out of the bathtub.   
  
“You said you’d wash my back,” Tweek crossed his arms in front of himself, hands clenched in fists as they dug into his sides.    
  
“I will, after I take care of her.”    
  
“But you said you’d do it now,” Tweek’s lip rolled into a pout.

  
“She’s a kid,” Craig started with a sigh. “Leave the door unlocked and I’ll come in and take care of you as soon as she’s settled.”    
  
“Whatever, don’t even bother.”    
  
“You’re not a baby are you?” T parroted, holding Craig’s hand tightly as they walked out of the room. “Why are you crying?” She shouted as they left the room for the kitchen.    
  
“That wasn’t very nice,” Craig said as he poured her a cup of water from the faucet. “You should be nice to Daddy.”    
  
“He said he wasn’t my Daddy,” she huffed, before she took a long drink from the cup. “My stomach still hurts, and it’s cold.”    
  
“Go watch TV?” He wasn’t authoritative, he never was. He had always been a follower, or a loner.    
  
“Fine,” she huffed, hands on her stomach as she walked to the couch. Craig couldn’t tell if she was faking it or not, but he didn’t have the time to think it through. He grabbed two sets of clothes from their bedroom, the stuff he’d picked out with Token, and joined Tweek in the shower.    
  
“I’m almost done,” Tweek sneered from the other side of the shower curtain as Craig undressed.    
  
“Then I’m just in time,” Craig tried to salvage the situation. He ducked behind the curtain, hot water hitting him immediately. He looked at Tweek, whose eyes were puffy and red rimmed. He raked his nails along Tweek’s back, even as he complained. He grabbed for the loofah already in Tweek’s hand, getting soap all down his arm in the process.    
  
He sloughed off the dead skin from Tweek’s back, watching the sex and sweat swirl around the drain, then be carted away, somewhere else. Somewhere that wasn’t here.    
  
“Can we fuck?” Tweek asked, as Craig scrubbed his lower back, careful to get every inch.    
  
“What?” Craig asked, thinking about T in the living room, curled up on the couch alone. “I think she’s sick.”    
  
“I don’t care about her,” Tweek turned around, ripping the loofah out of Craig’s hands and letting it fall to ground. “I want to,” he complained, placing both hands on Craig’s shoulders. “I top after every heat,” he complained, turning his head in such a way to expose his neck.    
  
“I know,” Craig stood on his tip toes to nip at the spot. It wasn’t always that Tweek let himself be marked. “Be quick, okay?” Craig relented, turning away from Tweek.    
  
“I knew you’d let me,” Tweek said, excitedly. He pressed into his back, gnawing at Craig’s bite mark as he fingered Craig. His fingers deftly worked Craig open, arousing him in the process of preparing him for sex. He could feel slick leak down his legs, only to be washed away by the running water. “You always let me.”    
  
Craig nodded, pressing into Tweek’s touches as he bit back moans. He didn’t want to scar T, not more than Tweek would inevitably.    
  
“Why so quiet?” Tweek asked, lining himself up with Craig’s hole as Craig grabbed for something to steady himself on the shower wall. He eventually settled to have a hand grab the lip meant for soap, and prayed it wouldn’t break.    
  
“Your daughter is right outside,” Craig hissed, which turned into a moan as Tweek sunk all the way into him.    
  
“I don’t care,” Tweek bristled, thrusting in and out quickly, as if to punish Craig for his insolence. Craig knew better than to bring her up. “Make noise for me,” Tweek whispered, lifting him up by the hips, so his feet weren’t entirely on the slick ground.    
  
“I’m gonna fall,” Craig whimpered. “I don’t want to fall.”    
  
“I got you,” Tweek hissed, his teeth clenched. “I got you,” he repeated, slamming himself inside of Craig. Craig yelped, against his own better judgement.    
  
“Fucking hell,” Craig groaned, eyes rolling back into his head.   
  
“Does it feel good?” Tweek asked, and Craig could hear the smirk on his face.    
  
“Uh-huh,” he responded, feet back on the ground as Tweek bent him over the side of the tub. His feet slid around the shower as he water bounced out of the tub to stand around his hands. He mewled at the quick pace Tweek had taken up, occasionally moaning when Tweek hit his prostate.    
  
“Gonna come,” Tweek whispered as he pulled Craig back into the shower. “I’m gonna, Jesus Craig,” he groaned as Craig tightened around him. He smiled, knowing Tweek always appreciated that trick, as Tweek started vigorously jacking Craig off, one hand around his dick as the other fondled his balls.    
  
Craig came silently, face flushed as ropes of semen splattered against the tile wall. He wanted to collapse in a heap on the bottom of the tub, but Tweek held him upright as he pulled out.    
  
Craig turned to see Tweek smiling, honestly smiling, for the first time since they’d came to live with Token. They were going to be fine, he told himself. They had moments like this, and that would be enough. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forever, I know. Sometimes real life gets in the way.

“Craig,” he lifted his head to hear a small child whining at the door. “Wake up!” She knocked rapidly, as Tweek cursed next to him, pulling a pillow over his face.    
  
“Ugh,” he groaned, stretching his arms into the air, “give me a minute.”   
  
“Go get her. I want to get some fucking sleep,” Tweek said, burrowing beneath the blankets.    
  
“I have a stomach ache!” She moaned. The knocking stopped, if only for a few seconds, as Craig tentatively put his feet on the floor.    
  
“Tweek,” he reached over and shook his shoulder, “come help me with her.”    
  
“I don’t want to,” he replied with a hiss, turning away from him.   
  
“Just come on,” he complained, popping his back as he padded across the carpet.   
  
“I want to sleep in your room!” She cried, beating on the door, again.    
  
“Too bad,” Tweek said into the pillow as Craig opened the door. He hoped she didn’t hear him.    
  
“Come on in,” he sighed, eyeing her up and down. Her pajamas pants were bunched at her knees, the waistband crooked across her stomach, and there appeared to be a stain on the front of her shirt. He squinted in the dark, the room illuminated by the night light near the closet.   
  
“I’m sick,” she moaned, clutching at her stomach. “Grandpa gives me coffee when I’m sick.”    
  
“We don’t have any coffee,” Craig walked towards her, picking her up and putting her on the bed. “Do you want some more water?”    
  
“No,” she said, cozying up to the pile of blankets that Tweek was hiding under. “I need coffee. Grandpa gives me special coffee.”    
  
“Of course he does,” Tweek said under his breath as he pulled the blankets away from his face. Craig smiled, looking between the two of them. They had the same hair, wild and untamable, sticking up wherever it wanted. “We have to go get her coffee.”    
  
“What? Why?” Craig asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. It was a double, barely big enough for Tweek and himself, much less Tweek, himself and a six year old girl. “What time is it?”    
  
“It doesn’t matter,” he sat up, careful not to touch her. “Get dressed and we’ll go get some coffee.”    
  
“What?” Craig asked, again. “We can’t just go. Someone has to take us.”    
  
“It hurts,” she cried, both hands on her stomach as she scooted towards Tweek. He kept moving away, keeping the same distance from her at all times. “Daddy, make it feel better.”    
  
“We’re going to get some fucking coffee,” he said, eyes narrowed and jaw set, “so just be quiet.”    
  
“Why are we leaving for coffee? I bet Token has some, and he’ll give us a cup. Not that she needs coffee, anyways.”    
  
“She needs it,” Tweek said, sliding out of bed as his daughter inched closer. “She’s in withdrawal. When did grandpa give you coffee last?”    
  
“Thursday,” she was looking at him, and at the empty spot on the bed, “he came to school with my big thermos. It’s all gone now.”   
  
“Let me just go wake Token up,” Craig said, standing up as T curled into a ball on the bed. “He’ll give us some coffee.”    
  
“We don’t need his help,” Tweek barked. Craig was fairly certain that yes, two omegas that had no car, no money, and no agency to go out into the world alone, did in fact need his help, but he didn’t say that. He just nodded and kept staring at the small lump on the bed.    
  
“My head hurts,” she whispered, covering her ears with both hands.    
  
“I know,” Tweek said, sitting back on the bed. Tentatively, he stuck out his hand, letting it hover over her body. “I know it hurts,” he repeated, not touching her. Craig watched, breath caught in his throat, as Tweek slowly lowered his hand to her back. He patted her twice before recoiling.   
  
“I don’t want to go to school,” she cried.   
  
“You aren’t,” Tweek patted her again. “It’s Sunday.”   
  
“I don’t feel good. I want a coffee; I’m a good girl.”    
  
There was a long pause as Tweek looked up at Craig, eyes darting around the room. He pulled his hands back into his lap, then turned to look at T. He inhaled, closed his eyes, and pulled the blanket up and over her body.   
  
“Uh,” Craig interrupted as Tweek’s hands lingered on the blanket resting on her shoulders, “do you want me to go some coffee?”    
  
“It has to be Tweek Bros,” he sighed, eyes still closed. “Dad, he puts something secret in it.”    
  
“Like an espresso shot? Token’s rich, I’m sure he’s got some espresso lying around. Let me go wake him up, and he’ll help.” Craig moved for the door as Tweek groaned in frustration.    
  
“No, not like espresso,” he clarified, pulling his hands back into his lap. “Like meth. He puts meth in the coffee.”    
  
“Funny joke,” Craig deadpanned, hand on the doorknob.    
  
“It’s not a joke,” Tweek replied, slowly straightening himself out on the bed.    
  
“There’s no way there’s meth in the coffee, Tweek.”    
  
“I used to go get it from Kenny’s,” Tweek snarled, arching his body away from T. “And then I’d add it to the beans, and I’d grind it all together.”    
  
“It’s too cold,” she whined, pressing herself against Tweek. He didn’t push her away. The room was quiet as Tweek draped another blanket over both of them. “Daddy, fix it.”    
  
“We can’t give her more coffee,” Craig said, still touching the doorknob, poised to run away from this whole situation. “Let me tell Token and he can send over a doctor, or a nurse, or something. Maybe we can take her to the hospital.”   
  
“I don’t want to talk to Token,” Tweek growled, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.    
  
“Then I’ll talk to him,” he opened the door, walking out of the room. “I’ll go get him and do all the talking. You just stay there and make her feel better.”    
  
“How?” Tweek asked, as if the realization that his daughter was pressed into his side was just hitting him. “She doesn’t even like me.”    
  
“Just keep doing that,” Craig said as he walked out of the house, not bothering with shoes. The cold bit at his toes as he walked the path from the guest house to the main house. It was dark, with no hints of the impending sun rise.    
  
He banged on the door three times with an oversize brass knocker, a lion with an open mouth. It seemed almost unreal. He was sure that no one actually had those anymore, that they were some relic of a bygone era, but it’s eyes were open and stared at him as he grabbed for it again.    
  
Before he had a chance to knock for a second time, the door swung open, startling him. He took a few steps backwards, nearly losing his footing on a brick step. Token stood before him, in a purple bathrobe, the waist synched with a terry cloth band.    
  


“What on Earth could you need at four in the morning?” Token asked, eyes crusted with sleep. “It better be damn important.”    
  
“T is sick,” he said, clutching his arms to conserve heat. He could feel the heat pouring out of the open front door, and he had a suspicion that Token’s house was warmer than theirs. Theirs wasn’t very warm at all.    
  
“You want like a Tylenol?” Token asked, rolling his eyes. “I think I have some. I have Advil for sure, somewhere in the medicine cabinet. We’ll get you your own medicine, so you don’t have to wake me up so early on my day off ever again.”    
  
“No,” Craig shook his head, “I think she needs a doctor. Like we need to go to the hospital.”    
  
“For what?” Token asked, playing with the knot on his bathrobe.   
  
“Tweek thinks she’s on meth,” he said, shiving in the cold.    
  
“Tweek is insane,” Token groaned, pushing the door shut. “Go back to bed. If she’s still sick in the morning, come and get me, but no sooner than nine o’clock.”    
  
Before he could disagree, the door was shut. He sighed, and trudged back through the cold to their house. While it definitely wasn’t as warm as Token’s, it was considerably warmer than outside. His toes felt numb as he dragged them across the old carpet.    
  
He nudged open their bedroom door, to find T fast asleep, her arms curled around Tweek, and his doing the same. He looked afraid, like he’d seen a ghost, or someone had threatened him. Craig couldn’t help but wonder what she had said while he was gone. Had she insulted him, again? Had she told him he was a bad parent because she was hurting?    
  
“She asked me to hold her,” Tweek whispered. “She was crying.”    
  
“It’s good,” Craig smiled, climbing back into bed. “She likes you.”    
  
“Why?” Tweek asked, voice small.   
  
“Why does your daughter like you?” Craig asked, pulling the blanket so he fit underneath with them. “You’re her dad, that’s why.” He watched as Tweek flinched from the word.    
  
“I didn’t even want to let her in,” he said, looking down at her. Her chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and she seemed peaceful. Sleeping when you’re sick was always nice, or Craig thought so. It was a reprieve from everything, more so when you felt lousy.    
  
“But you did. It’s gonna be fine,” he reassured. “Token said to get him at nine if she’s still sick. Let’s just go to bed.”    
  
The room fell quiet, save for the light snore of T. Craig looked at the popcorn ceiling, trying to make out figures in the dark. He was tired, but somehow too wound up to sleep. He thought he saw a lion, but after blinking, he wasn’t so sure. Patterns seemed to appear and disappear as he lost focus.   
  
“I like holding her,” Tweek said, interrupting the silence. “I always wished I had held her when she was a baby. I only saw her for a second before the nurse took her.”   
  
“Then you should hold her,” Craig yawned. “She obviously wants you to.”    
  
“I don’t think she likes me, man,” Tweek was shaking slightly, Craig could feel it in the bed. “I abandoned her, why would she like me?”    
  
“Stop that,” Craig said, reaching over to pat him on the arm. “You didn’t chose to leave her. Stop beating yourself up about it.”   
  
“What if I’m not any good at this?” He asked, still trembling.    
  
“Then you try to get better. Look, I don’t have all the answers, but I remember your parents, and you can’t be any worse than them.”   
  
“Dad told me,” Tweek gulped, trying to steady himself, “that he had lots of kids, and they lived in the basement. He said if I was bad that he’d go pull a different boy up, a better son, and leave me down there.”    
  
“That’s fucked up,” Craig exhaled. “That’s real fucked up.”    
  
“I just don’t want her to hate me,” Tweek said, after a brief pause. “Or blame me. LIke I don’t want her to think it was my fault.”    
  
“Babe,” Craig sighed, “it wasn’t your fault.”   
  
“Everyone told her it is.”

Craig knew that Tweek was emotional post heat, but they had somehow managed to skirt around these sorts of topics. Worries usually fell into one of a few categories, that Craig didn’t love him, that he’d be separated from Craig by an Alpha, or that Craig would die. They rarely talked about Tweek’s parents, and when they did it was in passing. Like how his mom liked snickerdoodles, or his dad grilled outside even when it was snowing. Innocent comments in passing, not bombshells about child abuse.    
  
He’d learned more in the last few days that he ever really wanted to know. He had suspected, sure. Everyone in town had suspected that Tweek’s parents were abusive, but there was no proof, and he wouldn’t talk about it. Craig wasn’t a pusher. If Tweek wanted to have secrets, then fine, he could have secrets. Craig wasn’t going to pry things out of him, they came when they came.    
  
By the time Craig thought to reassure Tweek again, he was fast asleep, arms still around his daughter.    
  
  


* * *

  
  


 

“Craig, get up,” Tweek’s hands were on his shoulders, shaking him awake.   
  
“I’m sleepy,” he groaned back, rolling away. He felt his pajama bottoms sticking to his legs, like they were wet. Wait, they were most certainly wet. Why were they wet?    
  
“You’re sleeping in pee, get up,” he hissed, shaking him again.    
  
“I didn’t mean too,” a small voice croaked from across the room. “I don’t feel good.”   
  
“Did I say you did it on purpose?” Tweek snapped, pulling the blankets away from Craig. “Craig, just get up, and go take a shower, man. It’s fucking gross.”    
  
“What?” He asked, as the sheets were pulled out from underneath him, rolling him onto the ground. He hit the floor with a thunk, and promptly stood up, eyes bleary with sleep. Across the room T was standing, shoulders hunched in on herself, hands bunching up the bottom of her nightgown.   
  
“My head hurts,” she sniffled, looking at Craig with wide open eyes.   
  
“I told you it would,” Tweek said, wadding up the sheets and tossing them towards the corner of the room. “Just stand there until you’re cleaned off.”    
  
“I don’t want to take a shower alone,” she said, fists clenched. “The bathroom is too dark.”    
  
“Then you can wait for everyone else to shower, then someone will help you,” he groaned, peeling off a plastic cover from the mattress. “Stop pissing in the bed and this won’t happen.”    
  
“Dude,” Craig stumbled across the room. “I’ll take care of her, just like, uh, go wake up Token I guess, and throw the sheets in his laundry?”   
  
“I’m not going near that house,” Tweek said, standing up perfectly straight. “Fucking Alphas, I’d rather sleep in piss than look at either of them.”    
  
“Tweek,” he groaned, grabbing T by the hand and leading her towards the bathroom. “Then just, I don’t know, sit on the couch until I’m done with her. I’ll talk with Token.” 

  
The bathroom was small, a single sink with a plain mirror, a toilet, and a shower tub combo. At the home they had a shared a bathroom, with stalls for toilets and six shower heads. There were always lines, so it was nice to have something private. It felt luxurious, even if what Craig had seen on TV told him it wasn’t. T stood in the doorway, eyes wide as Craig turned on the water. He tested it with his wrist, like he had seen his mom do when he was a kid, and pulled back the shower curtain, which was blue and covered in seashells. Huge seashells, not just your run of the mill stragglers from the beach, not that Craig had ever been to the beach. 

  
“You gonna get in?” He asked, looking around the room, trying to figure out if something was frightening her. The light was on, the room wasn’t dark. There was a closet, but she hadn’t said anything about being afraid of closets. He opened the door and checked anyway, only to find a few towels and a six pack of toilet paper. “There’s nothing in here, you can come in. No monsters.”    
  
“I can’t take a shower in front of you,” she said, hands on her hips. Her eyes were narrowed as Craig tried to give her a reassuring smile. “You can’t get naked with anyone who isn’t family. It’s bad.”    
  
“Oh, okay,” he responded, hand on the back of his neck. “I can stand outside the door?”    
  
“I don’t want to be by myself,” she huffed. “My head hurts, Craig.”    
  
Craig looked around the room, trying to figure out an alternative course of action. He looked at the shower curtain, and the huge conch shell pattern. And an idea hit him, though it was a stupid idea.    
  
“What if I just sat on the toilet and turned away from you? I can’t see through the curtain. You wouldn’t have to be alone, that way.” She looked at him for a moment, face blank. Slowly, a smile tugged on her lips, as she nodded. “Okay, good,” he said, “I’ll just face the wall and you can take a shower.”    
  
“Okay,” she agreed, stepping into the room quickly as Craig turned himself towards the beige wall. Maybe they could decorate the bathroom, that might be nice, he thought as the water started to fall from the shower head. “Don’t look.”    
  
“I’m not,” he reassured her. There wasn’t even like a picture of a bathroom, which struck Craig as odd. That was go to bathroom decoration. Find pictures of toilets, sinks, and tubs, and hang them up on the wall near those appliances. Maybe they could make the bathroom pink, Tricia had like when his Mom made the bathroom that way, even if he didn’t. He zoned out, staring at the wall, listening as the water hit the bottom of the tub. A door slammed, it sounded far away.   
  
“Fuck you, Token!” Tweek was screaming. Loud. Loud enough to be heard through the bathroom door. “I didn’t ask for your stupid fatass boyfriend to stick his dick in me!”    
  
“Is Daddy okay?” T asked, the water stopping. Craig couldn’t hear Token’s response, not for all the noise in the bathroom.    
  
“Yeah,” Craig said without thinking, “I mean, probably. I should probably go see what’s happening.”    
  
“Don’t leave me,” she said, the rings of the curtain scraping along the metal bar. “You said you wouldn’t leave.”    
  
“No, get fucked Token! Clyde doesn’t believe in the morning after pill, my ass. Clyde’s too stupid to even understand what it is, and you know it.”    
  
“I’m not leaving,” Craig said, standing up to rifle through the closet for a towel. He pulled one out of the stack, a dull blue, and handed it to her from the gap in the curtain. “Just get dried off and we’ll see what’s happening.”    
  
“Is Daddy in trouble?” She asked again, her feet squeaking in the tub.    
  
“No, no,” Craig said, cracking open the door so he could see Token. He was standing in their living room, no longer in his bathrobe, but in expensive looking jeans and a fancy button up shirt.   
  
“Listen here,” he growled, walking towards Tweek. “You’re not going to talk about Clyde like that, not so long as you’re living here, under my roof. Do you understand?”    
  
“What are you gonna do?” Tweek asked, squaring his shoulders. “Send me back to the home? Like I’d fucking care. Craig and I’d gladly go back.”    
  
“You’re not a packaged deal,” Token took a step forward. “And I doubt I’d send you back. At least if I sold you, I’d at least get some of my money back.”    
  
“You’re a douchebag,” Tweek hissed, “you know that?”   
  
“I’ve been told.”    
  
“If you don’t give me a pill, I’ll starve myself. I’m not doing this. I’m fucking not, man.” Craig gulped as Tweek glared at Token, lips snarled.   
  
“That’s enough to have you committed,” Token said coldly. “I wouldn’t mind leaving you alone in a ward for a few weeks.”    
  
“Hey, hey,” Craig interrupted, walking out of the bathroom. He didn’t shut the door, so it wasn’t like he had really left, right? “Let’s not fight,” Craig pleaded, rushing across the room and throwing his arms around his neck. “No need to fight, we like it here, don’t we Tweek?”    
  
“I fucking hate it here,” he grumbled, shrugging Craig away.    
  
“I think you’d hate being apart from Craig more,” Token shrugged, eyeing the pile of laundry near the door. Craig watched as T scampered out of the bathroom, towel drawn around herself, and shut herself in the bedroom.    
  
“No one’s going anywhere,” Craig sighed, pressing his body into Tweek’s back. “We’re all going to stay here and get along.”    
  
“Leave me alone,” Tweek pushed him away. He turned towards the bedroom, slamming the door so hard it shook the frame.    
  
“What the fuck?” Craig said, soft enough so that Tweek couldn’t hear him through the door.   
  
“You’re blaming me for this?” Token asked, eyebrows raised.    
  
“I’m not blaming anyone,” he said, rolling his eyes as he sat down on the couch. His pants still had a damp spot, but at this point he couldn’t be bothered to care. “Look, T is sick, and we’re both really stressed out, so if you could stop dropping bad news on us, that’d be great.”    
  
“I figured it’d be better to handle the problem head on, give him more time to adjust to the idea. I was trying to help.”   
  
“Well, it didn’t work, dingus,” Craig sighed, pulling his knees up to his chest. “You’d really have Tweek committed?”    
  
“He’s behaving poorly,” Token said, sitting next to Craig.    
  
“Because he’s fucking traumatized,” Craig answered.   
  
“Exactly, so maybe a place he could stay for a couple weeks to get some help might be good. I’d send him somewhere nice, I’m not an asshole.”    
  
“You’re a little bit of an asshole,” Craig argued.   
  
“Clyde or I would take you to see him,” he countered. “We talked about it last night, after Tweek gave him a black eye.”    
  
“Tweek gave him a black eye?” Craig asked.    
  
“Yeah, apparently he swung a dildo at his face. Clyde was crying like a bitch when I found him, and Tweek had already stormed off to find you, I presumed,” Token ran a hand over his hair, looking at Craig with worry. “Eventually he’s going to really hurt someone. I’d hate for it to be you or her.”    
  
“I don’t want him to go,” Craig whispered, letting himself lean onto Token. “I’d be all alone.”    
  
“Nonsense,” Token scoffed. “You’d have us. We’re you’re best friends. And when he comes back maybe he’ll stop getting into physical altercations with you. It’s a nice place, Craig. It’ll help him process everything.”    
  
“Can’t you just like give him the pill though?” Craig asked. “Like, we don’t have to tell Clyde. He’s obviously not ready to have a kid.”    
  
“Then he can just have it and give it to Clyde. Clyde’s the one who wants a baby, not me. He wouldn’t even ever have to see it.”   
  
“That worked so well the last time,” Craig rolled his eyes. “This is a bad idea, Token.”    
  
“It’s Clyde’s bad idea, not mine. If suppressants weren’t so expensive he’d be on them. Maybe this place will say he needs them for medical reasons so insurance will cover it. They have an open bed, Craig.”    
  
“You already called them?” Craig asked, standing up from the couch and walking towards the door. He placed his ear flush against the wood, and listened for any sound. There was an occasional sob, but no shouting.    
  
“Yeah, they want him up there tonight,” Token said. “It’s out by Salt Lake, it’s a drive so we should probably leave.”    
  
“You didn’t even ask him, or me!” Craig peeked into the room. They both had to be in the closet.   
  
“Just pack him a bag, okay?” Token said softly, letting out a long sigh. “I’ll start the car. I think it’s best if Clyde watched the other Tweek while we’re gone.”    
  
“Her name is T.”    
  
“You should come with,” Token said. “I’m going to get the car ready, just pack a bag. Use a garbage bag, I don’t care. I’ll be waiting in the car.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr if you're into that. Follow me [here](https://pbjellieao3.tumblr.com//).


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some suicidal threats in here from our favorite blonde, so fair warning.

“I hate both of you, so you know,” Tweek said. They were an hour into the trip, Tweek’s body up against the car door as Craig sat next to him in the backseat. “So much. You’ve ruined my life.” 

“It'll be good,” Craig reached over to pat him on the back but was pushed away. “I promise, it'll be good.” 

“First, I'm not bonding enough with her,” he said into the window, “then I'm being forcibly removed from her.” 

“That's not what this is,” Token said, eyes straight ahead as he drove down the interstate. 

“We’ll visit,” Craig said softly, eyes lowered to Tweek's flip-flops. He didn't have any other shoes. He was going to Salt Lake without any shoes. “Me and T. And I'll take good care of her while you're gone.” 

“Better care than I would, you mean? You’re saying I'm a bad parent,” he shouted, not bothering to look back. “It's not like anyone taught me anything! No one helped me with shit!” 

“They'll help you,” Token sighed. “And you'll be back before the baby is born.” 

“I'm not going to have a baby,” he sunk into the seat, face pressed against the glass. “You don't understand. I am not,” he took a pause, “under any circumstances, having this kid.”

“There's no sense fighting it,” Token said, not looking back. He was alone in the front seat. Craig wondered, for a minute, if that bothered him. Token as a child always seemed to enjoy his alone time, but he wasn't sure the same held true in his adulthood. 

“I won't eat,” he said, hitting his head lightly against the glass. 

“They'll force feed you,” Token replied. 

“I’ll drink something toxic,” he hit his head harder.

“You'll be under surveillance.”

“I'll get a coat hanger,” he hit again. 

“Surveillance,” Token sighed, looking at them through the rear view mirror.

“Then I'll kill myself!” He screamed, banging his head as hard as he could against the glass. There was a loud thud, and then Token slowed down, drifting to the shoulder before stopping. 

“Stop that,” Token said, softly but sternly. Tweek turned to look at him, and a trail of blood snaked down his chin. He had broken his lip in the process of trying to break the window. Craig gasped, undoing his seatbelt and sliding over to him, using the bottom of his shirt to sop up the blood. 

“Honey,” he held the hem of his shirt to Tweek's lip, “please don't hurt yourself.”

“Why not? I want to,” he spat, blood flying into Craig. “I don't want to exist! I want to die!”

“Which is why you're going,” Token unbuckled his seat belt and dug around in the center console. He pulled out a pill bottle, screwed the lid off, and shook one into his hand. “Take this,” he said, hand outstretched.

“I'm not taking anything from you,” Tweek glared, blood still trickling down his face.

“It's an anti anxiety medication,” he said flatly.

“Why would you have those? I think you're a liar. A fucking Alpha liar, like the rest of them,” he hissed. 

“My parents died last year,” Token sounded sad. It was such a rare occurrence. Craig couldn't think of the last time Token had sounded sad. Was is it at Stripe #9’s funeral? “I went through a difficult period and they were prescribed to me.” 

“I bet they died to get away from you,” Tweek shot off, grabbing the pill and shoving it into his mouth. “I hope this pill kills it.” 

“It was just a hiking accident,” Token whispered, slowly moving the car again. 

“Don't say things like that,” Craig said, aghast at the words that had left Tweek's mouth.

“I wish I was dead, too,” he said, turning back towards the window. 

“Please don't say that,” Craig begged, buckling himself in the middle seat as they got back onto the freeway. “I'd miss you.” 

“You've got two Alphas, why would you miss me? You don't need me.” 

“I love you,” Craig said, trying lean towards him.

“I used to believe that, too,” Tweek snapped, pushing him away. 

Craig took a deep inhale, smelling what was undeniably Omega fear rolling off of Tweek. Had it been like this the whole time? He shifted in his seat, trying to get closer to Tweek, and felt something wet. The color drained from his face as Tweek, once again, pushed him away. If this was preheat, how long did he have until heat started? Why was it starting while they were in Wyoming? Tweek had only a few hours. Was he going to start in the car?

“Token,” Craig said shakily, “I think I need a window open, the smell is, uh,” he paused, feeling his underwear plaster to his behind, “affecting me.”

“I’ll roll down the front two, okay? I don’t want him trying to escape,” Token kept driving. “Tweek stop throwing a fit,” he groaned. 

“It’s not like you actually give a fuck,” Tweek hissed, pulling at the lock on his door. “I’m going to open the door and just jump out the car. That’ll kill me, for sure.” 

“Child locks,” Token said, shaking his head slightly. “Doors in the back won’t open from the inside.” 

“Tweek, stop it,” Craig pressed himself into him, recoiling when he took an elbow to the face. He felt his teeth bang into his lip, and felt the blood drip down his face as he looked at Tweek with wide eyes. At least they matched. “That fucking hurts.” 

“You’re gonna be an Alpha plaything,” Tweek shoved him again, “that’s gonna hurt way worse.” He unbuckled his seatbelt, then Craig’s, and pressed himself onto Craig, shoving him against the opposite door. He swung twice at his torso, then they both rolled onto the floorboards as the car swerved and jerked to a stop. 

“Cut that shit out!” Token roared from the front as Craig flinched beneath Tweek. He took one more clip to the eye, wincing until he felt the door on his side open. “Tweek get off of him.” Craig could hear the motors of the windows whirling, and a door slam shut, and then open. 

Token’s body blocked the light from the open door, and any possible escape path. Tweek didn’t move, though. In fact, he took another swing at Craig, this time to the ribs, while holding eye contact with Token. 

“You can’t make me,” Tweek laughed, pressing himself against Craig. 

“It’s fine. We’re fine. This happens, sometimes,” Craig said, apologetically. 

“It shouldn’t,” Token glared, picking Tweek up by the back of his shirt. “Your mate shouldn’t be hurting you.” He placed him back in his seat, ignoring the pounding of his fists. “That med should start working soon. Just go to sleep, Tweek.” 

“Fuck you,” Tweek growled, glaring as Token took Craig out of the backseat, shut the door, and walked him around to the front. 

“I’m gonna mess up your seat,” Craig whispered, wiping the blood from his nose. “Sorry.” 

“Fuck the seat at this point,” Token sighed, clasping him on the back. “It’s just blood. I’ll get it detailed.”

“I, uh,” he stalled in front of the passenger door as Tweek hit his head against the glass, again, “don’t be mad.” 

“It depends on what you’re about to tell me, Craig,” Token sighed, hand on the door handle. 

“No, don’t open it,” he pulled his hand away, and made eye contact. “I don’t want Tweek to hear.”

“Okay,” Token took a breathe, “then hurry up and tell me.” 

“I think,” he bit his lip, watching Tweek throw a fit in the back seat, “I think my pre-heat just started.” 

“Of course it did,” Token said with an eye roll. “I’m sure they can detail away slick too. Just sit and try not to get too wound up.” He nodded, eyeing the empty front seat through the closed door. “We’ll stop and rent a room, once Tweek is settled.” 

He climbed into the car wordlessly. Then looked out the windshield as they sped down the freeway. There was a steady sound of Tweek banging against the door, until the hits slowed, and eventually vanished. By the time Craig dared to look behind him, Tweek was slumped over and asleep.

“He shouldn’t hit you,” Token said. “I don’t know what you think is normal, but your mate beating you, is not.” 

“It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt that bad.” 

“If I had known that Tweek beat you, I’d have only taken you.”

They drove in silence for a few more hours. Craig reclined his seat, trying to get comfortable as slick accumulated between his legs. He groaned as the car hit a pothole, shifting in place. It was too cold in the car, far too cold, and he didn’t like being out in the open, uncovered. He suffered in silence for a few more minutes, occasionally adjusting his cock in an attempt to get some relief. 

“Token?” he rasped, looking down at his feet.

“Please just make it until we drop Tweek off,” he sighed. “It’s like an hour away. I’ll lock the car doors as I bring him in.” 

“Can I have your coat?” His teeth chattered as he fingered the material hanging over the back of the seat. 

“Yeah, of course,” he said, reaching over and dropping it onto Craig. Craig held it to his face, inhaled, and felt his body relax. “That’s pretty weird, though,” he chuckled. 

“Just smells good,” he said, arranging it over himself. What happened next was second nature. He slipped his hand underneath the waistband of his jeans, and pawed at his dick through the cotton underwear. He did that for a moment, biting his lip as he moaned at the touches. 

“Seriously?” Token asked, glancing at him. Craig nodded, moving underneath the underwear to pump his dick. “Can’t you wait for the heatroom?” 

“It hurts,” Craig mumbled, bring the coat to his face with his free hand. “Token, help me.” 

“Driving a car,” he said, pulling out his phone. He glanced down, pressed the screen a few times, and once it was ringing placed it on the center console. 

“I need it,” he whimpered. “Token, I need you.” 

“Hello? Salt Lake Omega Rehabilitation?” A chipper female voice on phone answered.

“This is Token Black. I’m on my way to drop off a Tweek Black.” 

“Correct, we’re expecting you.” 

“I’m about forty-five minutes away, and there seems to be a complication,” Craig groaned again, clenching his toes in his shoes. He pumped faster, mewling as he grew close to orgasm. “I had to give him a Xanax.” 

“That’s fine, sir,” the woman said, sounding bored. “Sometimes a traumatized Omega can have trouble on the car ride.” 

“Yes, of course,” he started again. “But I’m having some other issues, as well. It seems that the scent from the first has spurred the other into pre heat.”

“Oh dear,” the woman said, as Craig bit at the jacket. He came, quietly, semen coating the inside of his panties. “That can happen when they’re close. One subconsciously trying to protect the other. Is he alright?”

“Are you alright?” Token asked, putting a hand of Craig shoulder.

“Uh-huh,” he whispered, letting his head fall back into the seat. “Feels better after cuming. Sorry, Token.”

“Okay,” the woman on the phone said. “How about I rent you out one of our heat rooms, and we can settle Mr. Tweek while you two take care of things? We can finish the paperwork after his heat.” 

“That would be excellent,” Token sighed. “Thank you so much. We’ll be there soon.” The line clicked dead as Craig tried to keep warm in his seat. “So I guess I’m rescheduling your appointment.” 

“Can I suck you off?” Craig asked, then threw a hand over his mouth. 

“No, not while driving,” Token chastised.

“I want to,” he keened, feeling blood rush to his dick again. “We’re gonna have a baby, right?” 

“Yes,” Token sighed. “We’re going to have a baby. That is the whole purpose of your heat.”

“I want to be fucked,” he whined pathetically, tears brimming in his eyes. “Can I wake Tweek up?” 

“No,” he blurts out. “No, you can’t wake Tweek. Just jack off until we get there? Okay?”

“But I need it,” Craig protested, “and Tweek and I can do it in the backseat.” 

“Hush. Stop talking. That’s an order.”

Craig sat silently, jacking off as he was instructed. His breath came out in ragged pants as he searched for some kind of relief. After what felt like an eternity, they turned onto a side road with a giant sign. 

OMEGA REHABILITATION FACILITY

“Oh thank God,” Token groaned, parking in front of a friendly enough looking building. Craig, on autopilot had unbuckled his seatbelt, pulled his shirt over his head, and pulled his jeans off, along with his underwear. He shoved his face into the jacket and climbed out of the car. 

“Craig!” Token shouted. “You're naked!” 

“Uh-huh,” he said, walking over to Token and wrapping himself around him. “Naked. Fuck me, Alpha.” 

“Christ,” Token said, grabbing Craig by the legs. He walked up the steps and knocked on the door as Craig kissed at his face and ground his pelvis into his jeans. He knocked four times, quickly and loudly. “I need a staff member!” 

“It's close,” Craig whispered, nipping at his ear as he moaned. Token hit the door, again. 

“Can we-” the woman gasped mid sentence and dragged them inside the building. Craig held on as they moved, enjoying being carried by an Alpha. His Alpha. Someone was missing, who was it? “Karen, take them to the heat room.” 

“Where's Tweek?” Craig asked, voice slurred as they followed a new woman. “I always have sex with Tweek. We're mates. Mates. Token, where's Tweek?” 

“In the car. The door is unlocked, drag him in,” Token said, standing in front of a large steel door. 

The woman, the new one, hastily pressed some buttons on a keypad and the door popped open. They were escorted into a small white room with a cot, a toilet, and a sink. It reminded Craig of somewhere, but he couldn't place it immediately. As the door was shutting, Token dropped him on the bed, tossing a few blankets to him. 

“Make a nest, or whatever,” he said, not looking directly at Craig. “Quickly.” 

“Gonna help?” He asked, pushing the blankets aside. “Token, it hurts.” 

“I know, I know,” he said softly, giving him the jacket. “The book says you need a nest for a good heat experience.” 

“Fuck the book,” Craig laughed, making a semicircle with the blankets. “I just,” he sighed, collapsing onto the bed, “ugh. Words are hard.” 

“Because of your heat, I know,” Token said slipping off his shirt. “I'm going to try to breed you,” Craig made a guttural noise at this statement, pressing his ass into the air. “I need to call Clyde, to uh,” he faltered, pulling his phone out of his pants before dropping them to the ground, “to ensure an erection.” 

As he removed his underwear, Craig saw his opportunity and took it. He scrambled off of the bed and knelt down, taking Token’s soft dick in his hand, then mouth. Vaguely, he recognized the ringing of a phone as he sucked.   
He felt his vision go fuzzy, the outside blurring inward as he reached around to finger himself. The last thing he could remember with any certainty was the sound of Clyde’s voice on the phone. He relaxed, and let himself slip into his heat.


	10. Chapter 10

“Craig,” Token whispered, gently shaking him on the shoulder. There were the sounds of someone moaning in the background, like they were having sex. It all sounded very masculine. “I think it’s time to wake up.” 

Craig stretched his arms into the air. His elbows popped as he raised them and there was a twinge in his back. Upon further inspection, he felt incredibly sore, everywhere. There was a blanket around him, pressed into his stomach, and another pressed into his feet. He could feel it, because he was naked. He could also feel the warm flesh of someone pressing into him.

God, he was naked with his best friend from second grade. The pieces began to come together as he tried to jerk away and cover himself with one of the blankets. He didn’t move though, not like he wanted. He was knotted. 

Token had knotted him. 

“You’re okay. You’re okay,” Token said, placing his hand back on his shoulder. “I think your heat is over. Really, I need your heat to be over because I never want to do this again.” 

“What’s that noise?” Craig asked over the moaning in the background.

“Pornography,” Token said, very seriously. “I’m not,” he stopped, taking a breath, “it’s not that you’re not a fine Omega, but I’m not,” he stopped again, “I’m just not sexually attracted to you.” 

“So it’s Alpha porn?” He asked. 

“Yes,” Token sighed. “I went well over my data limit in the last two days. I was very lucky that you slept long enough for me to grab a phone charger.”

“That’s cool, I guess. That it exists, not the limit thing,” Craig said, fighting the urge to press himself into Token. They were friends, not mates. This was a biological need, not a date. He didn’t want it to be, anyways. He wanted to get dressed and go see Tweek. “Fuck,” he jerked away again, yelping as the knot pulled against him. “Where’s Tweek?” 

“Presumably in therapy,” Token said, silencing his phone.

“What?” Craig asked, trying to fit together the last forty-eight hours. “Where are we?” 

“Salt Lake,” Token groaned, hand snaking between the two of them to tug on his dick.

“Fuck, that hurts, man,” Craig complained. 

“Sorry,” Token said, pulling them apart. Craig had never been knotted before, he wasn't even so sure he liked it. He certainly didn't like separating. “Look, we've got to go. Tweek, girl Tweek, is in a hospital in Denver and she's apparently unwilling to see anyone who isn't you.”

“What?” Craig asked, sitting up and scanning the small room for his clothes. He could see Tokens clothes folded near the bed, but his were nowhere to be found.

“She was on meth.” He sighed, slipping into his clothes. “Clyde took her to the ER and they transferred her to a children's psych ward in Denver. It's for the best, I'm sure. But she wants to see you, and only you.”

“Is she okay?” Craig asked, looking around the room again. “Where are my clothes?”

“Probably in the car where you left them,” Token said walking towards the door.

“The car?” He asked, vaguely remembering the car ride here. Tweek had been pouting in the backseat, but why? Why were they even in Salt Lake? “What happened?” 

“You went into heat and stripped naked,” Token said opening the door. “Come on,” he said haughtily as he held it open, “we don't have all day.”

“But I don't have any clothes,” Craig whispered, suddenly very embarrassed of his nudity. He grabbed for a blanket and wrapped it around himself. 

“Then you shouldn't have taken them off in the car.” 

“I was in heat,” Craig said in his defense, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself as he followed him out the door. There was a sign in the hallway that read “Omega Rehabilitation Facility.” 

They were leaving Tweek in a facility. Tweek was being left and he hadn't even gotten a chance to say goodbye while in his right mind. 

“I want to say bye,” he blurted out while passing the front desk. “I don't want to leave without saying bye to Tweek.” 

“We need to go,” Token said sternly. “We have other business to attend to.” 

“Tweek is all alone without me,” he argued, standing still. “I want to say goodbye to him.” 

“It's not like he's going to be gone forever,” Token grumbled. “He'll be back in three or four months.” 

“I don't want to wait,” he said, planting his feet into the ground. “I want to say bye and give him a number to reach me at. I love him.” 

“And that's sweet,” Token said with the fakest smile Craig had ever seen. “But we have to go.” 

“I'm not going without saying goodbye.” 

“Maybe then I’ll just leave you here,” Token said taking a step towards him. “You can be in Omega prison with Tweek, if that's what you really want.” 

“I don't want to leave without saying bye,” he said, again. The drive was starting to come back to him, being attacked, Tweek threatening to kill himself, and Tweek banging his head against the window. He couldn't leave him here like this, not without clearing the air. Tweek would come home with a grudge. 

“Then you can just fucking stay,” Token narrowed his eyes and walked towards the door. “You have a lot of less than ideal behavior, come to think of it. Back talk, obstinacy, and your obsession with another Omega.” 

“Being gay is less than ideal behavior?” Craig asked, still clutching the blanket. “Doesn't that seem hypocritical to you?” 

“I don't think being homosexual is good behavior,” he snarled, turning around on his heel. “It's unnatural and it's wrong. And if they can teach you to not be gay, then you should be happy for the chance!” 

“Token,” he sighed, taking a step forward then another, and wrapping him in a hug. “No one can teach you to not be gay.” 

“I know that, Craig,” he whispered. “I tried.”

“That's dumb.”

“They wouldn't care about you being in love with Tweek anyways. You're pack mates, it's the natural order of things, or something. The books talk about it a little bit. If you get more than one, they tend to fall for each other. Close proximity while Alpha’s and Beta’s work long days. They advise against breaking those bonds.”

“That's good information, I guess,” Craig said, letting Token go. He looked incredibly sad. He studied his face for a moment, etching his frown lines into his memory. He caught a glimpse of something red and swollen peeking out his shirt. Was that a bond mark? “Oh no,” Craig said, eyes wide with horror as he placed his hand on the wound. “I'm so sorry, man. Clyde’s gonna kill me. I didn’t- fuck, I shouldn't have done that.” 

“Oh, it's just a bite,” Token shrugged. “Where is their secretary? If you're going to say goodbye to Tweek, we need her to let us back to see him.” 

“I marked you,” Craig said, wringing the blanket in his hands as Token rang a bell over and over. “I gave you a mating mark.” 

“You also sucked my dick, took my knot, and you're probably pregnant with my child. The bite is the least of my worries.” He stopped dinging the bell as a short woman rushed to the desk. She smiled, bowed her head slightly, and took a seat. 

“We would like to see Tweek Black before we leave, please,” Token said, a smile on his face. “We'll be back next Saturday, but Craig would feel better seeing him off. You know how Omegas are.” 

Craig knew not to say anything. He had learned that much in the last week. He stood silently and wrapped the blanket tighter around himself as the woman chatted on the phone. She said something about Tweek being on his way, and waiting in a heat room. Token took his shoulder in hand, and steered him back into the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. 

“Sit down on the bed,” Token said, sitting on the lid of the toilet. “I'm sure he'll want to touch you, that seems to be his signature move.” 

“We're coming back Saturday?” Craig asked, arranging the blanket so he didn't have to hold it. 

“Until he's out,” Token said with a sigh. “They want us to do family therapy, or something along those lines. I'll fill them in about his daughter’s condition. I'm sure they will want to know.” 

“Are we telling Tweek?” He asked not seeing him appear in the doorway until he had said his name. There was a creaking sound as he pushed open the door. 

“Telling me what?” He asked, eyes narrowed as he wheeled in an IV pole. There was a thin tube inserted into his nose. What the hell happened?

“T is in the hospital,” Craig whispered, feeling the air fly out of his lungs as he stared at Tweek. 

“What the hell did Clyde do to her!” He screamed, pulling the IV pole behind him. “I swear if he did anything to her, I'll kill him. I'll kill him.” 

A woman walked into the room, wearing a knee length skirt and blazer. She coughed, then looked at Tweek. “We talked about this Mr. Black. It's unacceptable behavior to threaten to harm people.” 

“My name isn't Mr. Black,” he grumbled. Regardless of the name, his shoulders fell as did his face. “Craig? Did you have a heat?” 

“Uh, yeah,” he said, wincing slightly as the wheels screeched against their bearings. Tweek sat next to him, burrowing his head in the crook of Craig's neck. 

“Sorry I missed it,” he sounded so mournful. “I'm sorry you had to be knotted. You must be sore.” Craig nodded, wrapping his arms around him. “Why is she in the hospital?” 

“She was on meth,” Token replied, the same way he would have replied to a question about the time. Flat affect. 

“I told you,” Tweek glared, swinging his head to look at Token. “I told you she was.” 

“I know, babe,” Craig said, rubbing along the small of his back. That was one of his favorite places to be touched. “They're gonna make sure she gets better.” 

“Good,” he said. After a few silent moments he added, “I hope she's a beta, or an alpha.” 

“Me too,” Craig said without second thought. “Why do you have that?” He asked, pointing to the IV pole and the clear bag filled with opaque liquid. 

“Because he refused to eat, I assume,” Token sighed. “If he eats, he can have it removed.” 

“I don't want to eat,” Tweek whispered into Craig's ear. “I don't want to do this. They're going to make me have a baby.” 

“Honey,” Craig kept rubbing his back, “it'll be okay.” 

“It won't, you're wrong,” he jerked away, once again glaring at Token. “You haven't done this, yet. You don't know what it's like. He's just going to take it away. Not that I want it, I don't.” 

“Mr. Black,” the attendant said, “no one is going to take your child from you. I don't know where you got this idea from. It's not even a sure fire thing you've conceived.” 

Craig tried not to laugh. With a ninety-nine percent conception rate among healthy Omegas in heat, it seemed cruel to give him any hope. Token looked down at his phone as Craig snuggled back into Tweek’s side. 

“I love you,” he said, placing a kiss on Tweek's cheek. “It's going to be okay.” 

“It won't,” he cried, sniffling as tears welled in his eyes. “They're going to send me back, this is sending me back, man. And then they're going to take it and I'll be all alone. I don't want to be alone.”

“Mr. Black, no one is taking your child from you,” the woman said, clicking her shoes on the tile as she walked further into the room. “I don't know where Omegas get their ideas from,” she cast Token a sympathetic look and a shrug. 

“Probably from when they took his other child away at birth,” Token groaned. “I'm paying you an awful lot, you should at least be familiar with the case file.” 

Tweek rubbed his face against the blanket, clutching him with both hands as the woman crossed her arms. Token shifted in his seat, checking the time on his phone. Craig sat and let Tweek cry on him. It was so rare for Tweek to cry, or at least it had been. 

“I don't want to,” he sobbed. “They're going to take it. I don't want you to have to either.” 

“They won't,” Craig reassured, tilting his head up so he could give him a quick kiss. “Right, Token?” 

“I have no interest in making you anymore unstable than you are.” Craig thought that was particularly rich, since he hadn't separated Clyde and Tweek during his heat. He also refused Tweek a morning after pill. And as icing on the fucked up cake, he'd brought him here.

“See, babe,” he said, regardless of his actual thoughts. “No one's going to take it.”

“I don't want it,” he said, drawing the snot back into his nose. “I don't want to have it.” 

“I think it's time for Mr. Black to go back to his room,” the woman interrupted, “and have a PNR and perhaps a nap.” 

Craig gave Tweek one last kiss, before he slinked out of the room, dragging what was apparently his lunch behind him.

“Perhaps the reviews were wrong,” Token grumbled, holding the door open. “If this is the best facility in North West then I am sorely disappointed.”

“We’re just Omegas,” the words surprised Craig as they tumbled out of his mouth, “it’s not like we matter.” 

“That’s asinine,” he said, leading him down a hallway and to the car. “You produce and care for children. You matter.”

“We’re interchangeable,” Craig huffed, arranging the blanket around himself as he buckled his seatbelt. “If Tweek and I don’t work, you can always buy a new set.” 

“I don’t want a new set,” Token sighed, throwing the car into reverse. “I want you two to be well behaved so I can have a nice relaxing life with my husband.”

“Husband?” Craig asked, shifting in his seat. “You and Clyde are married?” 

“No, of course not,” he groaned. “We use it, in private, at Clyde’s behest. I slipped up, it was a silly mistake.” 

“It’s not silly to want to be married,” Craig said, trying, and failing to make himself comfortable. “I want to be married to Tweek.” 

“Oh yes, because if I was going to hitch my wagon to a horse, it’d be Tweek,” Token scoffed. “Tweek is a liability, at best. You have to understand that. Omegas don’t just jump back from abuse. You’re not resilient creatures.”

“Fuck you, dude. I love him.” 

“I don’t doubt that you do,” he said, pulling onto the main road, “but love is stupid. Love isn’t something that encourages people to make good decisions. You might find yourself dropping off someone dangerous in Salt Lake because you let love make your decisions for you.”

“Oh, what was your logical decision? Take him into the backyard and shoot him like he has rabies?” Craig asked, arms crossed over his chest.

“No, I’m not a monster. There’s a shop in Denver that makes backpacks-”

“Backpacks? You were going to sell him to a sweatshop?” Craig felt the color drain from his face. What would happen when he made a mistake? What would the repercussions to that be? Would Token’s first inclination be to sell him? 

“It’s not like I was going to make him do sex work,” he said, as if a sweatshop was really all that much better than prostitution. “Anyways, Clyde said no. So I found this place where I’m playing ten thousand dollars a month to house a fifty thousand dollar Omega, who is terrified of his one biological purpose.” 

“We used to be friends,” Craig said, pressing himself into the car door. Anything to get further away from Token. “What the hell happened to you?” 

“I grew up,” Token snapped. “I grew up because I had to. I couldn’t just sit in some facility and wait for Prince Charming to rescue me. No, I had to be an adult and make adult decisions, while you and Tweek and Clyde just get to ride on someone else’s coattails.”

“Like you would let anyone take control of your life, like you’ve controlled ours,” Craig whispered, barely loud enough to hear over the heater in the car.

“Shut up. You have no idea what you’re talking about, because you have no concept of the real world. I took in you and your irregular heats, your abusive boyfriend, and his illegitimate daughter, and this is how you thank me? By being a smart ass?” 

“Why? Because if I don’t, you’ll sell me?”

“Do you want me to, Craig? Because right now getting out from underneath this mess seems fairly tempting.” Craig felt his throat tighten. 

“You wouldn’t, I’m probably pregnant,” he said, his fists clenched. 

“You won’t always be pregnant.” He paused, eyes fixed forwards. “But you’re right, I probably wouldn’t. Let’s not test it.”

The rest of the drive to Denver was silent.


	11. Chapter 11

“I don't feel good,” T whined, sitting on a sofa next to Craig. She had stumbled into the room, eyes glazed. Once she saw him, she rushed over, climbing over the stiff beige fabric and resting her head against his shoulder. 

“I know, honey,” he said, stroking her hair. “They're gonna make you feel better. It's their job.” He wished there had been time for a shower between all this, but he didn't have the guts to ask Token after what he had said in the car.

Token sat at a table too small for his frame as other patients and their visitors milled about. T hadn’t so much as acknowledged his existence. A nurse had warned them that she wasn't very lucid, that withdrawal in children was a tricky thing. 

Craig had nodded like she was talking to him. He was more of a parent than Token, anyway. Though it wasn't like he had spent a plethora of time with her. No it'd been less than a week, and he was comforting her in the position of daddy. He was a stranger to her, but she didn't seem to mind. 

“Do I live here now?” She asked, eyes sagging shut as she maneuvered herself into his lap. “I can't remember.” 

“Just for a little bit,” he said, wrapping his arms around her, “then you'll be back home.” 

“With Grandpa?” Her body stiffened. “Or with the other kids? Or with you?”

“With me,” Craig whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder his voice would crack. She couldn't know how upset he was, not right now. No, now was a time to be a pillar of strength. 

“I like you,” she yawned, burying her face against his chest. “We watch cartoons.” 

“Yeah, we sure do,” he tried to force himself to sound cheery, but it just sounded canned to his ears. He hoped she wouldn't notice.

“Miss Lela said to tell Daddy my pajamas are too small,” she said. Craig didn't know who Lela was, but he assume it was someone on staff. “He's not here.” 

Craig took a deep breath, wondering if he should even address the situation with Tweek. Would she be able to understand he was sick, too? He could think about it for a few days, and tell her what was happening later. Think of a good lie to tell her, something far enough away from the truth to tell a six year old. In the end he decided to just reassure her that she’d have clothes that fit.

“Don’t worry about PJs, okay? Do you want pants or a nightgown?” He asked. He didn’t get a response. She was asleep, mouth open as she rested against his chest.

As she slept, he wondered if this is what it was like for Tweek at age fourteen. Did he just sleep peacefully on someone's chest as he went into withdrawals? Not that there was anyone around him. His parents never visited, and he'd been a loner before Craig had arrived. T must have been given some kind of medication to ease her through the process. Was Tweek given the same courtesy?

Probably not, Craig decided, watching the subtle rise and fall of her shoulders. He would have done this for Tweek, if he had the opportunity. He would have let him sleep on his chest, and stroked his hair and hugged him. Maybe, in some strange way, comforting T in Tweek’s place was like comforting Tweek. Maybe, if Tweek had someone to cry on through the whole process he wouldn't have been as devastated.

He wondered when Tweek realized he was pregnant. Did he know enough at fourteen to understand having a heat? Did someone on staff tell him what failure to get a second heat meant or was he left to put the pieces of nausea, moodiness, and weight gain together on his own? Did he cry and ask them to get rid of her, like he did to Token? Or was he naively excited, imagining a life he’d never have with his baby?

Craig envisioned Tweek, belly swollen, locked in the room they later shared, talking to her. Not that he would have know she was a her, but talking just the same. He had to have become attached. The Tweek who left South Park was a person who could still form attachments. Hell, Craig was attached and he hadn't carried her. He hadn't gone through a low point alone with her as his only company. He wasn't a fourteen year old.

He was fifteen by the time she was born, he reminded himself. Like it really made a difference in maturity level. He knew that the differences between fourteen year old Craig and fifteen year old Craig were miniscule. They were essentially the same person, with the only real changes being physical. An extra five pounds of weight, an extra inch of height. 

Fourteen year old Craig would have been terrified to be removed from his friends and family, because sixteen year old Craig was. He could hardly imagine the extra stress of coming off of meth, let alone carrying and delivering a child. And he didn't even get to keep her. 

Maybe it would have been different if he had kept her. A few other Omegas in the home had young children, and they seemed well enough adjusted. Craig still would have recognized him. They still would have shared a room. Craig still would have helped Tweek through his heats. 

She wiggled in his lap, wrapping her arms around his waist and mumbling something he couldn't understand. He nodded and hummed at her, letting her fall back to sleep. 

Token stared blankly ahead as Craig ran his fingers up and down her back. His mom had done the same for him when he was small. It struck him that T didn't have a mom who did things for her. No one baked T cookies. No one kissed her scraped knees. No one held her when she was sick. Craig had a general understanding of the Tweak's from junior high, and they weren't very affectionate people. 

Tweek ate up the physical contact when they first started dating. He’d linger longer than necessary on hugs, hold his hand out while walking, lean into Craig's touches to his shoulders. Craig was just starting to realize that he was the first person to do those things for Tweek. He was the only person. Chances were that he'd always be the only person. 

He was probably T’s first person, too. 

She was young, Craig told himself. She didn’t have to grow up and be like him. She could become well adjusted. If she got off drugs, which she was doing, and had decent parents, which he was going to try his damndest, surely, she was young enough to recover. And hopefully, she wasn’t an Omega so she would never find herself in the same kinds of messes as Tweek. 

“I don’t feel good,” she mumbled, eyes still squeezed shut. 

“I know, baby,” he said. “Do you want to go lay on your bed?” 

“Nuh-uh,” she whimpered. “I wanna stay here.” 

How could he say no? He couldn’t. She wanted him here, so he was going to be here, even if Token looked bored sitting without his phone. No electronics allowed past the front desk. 

“Okay, then,” he rubbed her back, “we’ll stay here until they make me go.” 

“Don’t go,” she whimpered, clutching at his back. “Don’t go.” 

“I’ll be back,” he said, even though he didn’t know when he’d be back. “But we’ve got a little bit longer, okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded against him. “Don’t go.” 

She passed out on his chest, again, and he stayed until visiting hours were over.


End file.
